The Llama Ranch, swimming breaks, endless human kindness, and our goodbye to USA. Great Divide Day 36-41

Full disclosure. This section was THE BEST section of the entire Great Divide MTB tour. In part because of the beauty and endless flowing water but also in large part because we met so many amazing, generous humans along this stretch. Nearly every single day from Butte to Eureka was graced with kindness and generosity, and I am so touched by these experiences.

Day 36: Butte to Helena, MT

81 miles; 6,463 ft of elevation gain: Strava map

Our rest day, a true rest day where we did next to nothing, was a great success, and so we were feeling super solid on the morning we left Butte. We rolled out of town with full bellies after one last breakfast of John Babcock’s blueberry pancakes. John was a Great Divide icon, seeing countless folks in transit along their journeys. On the night we stayed, he was hosting at least 10 cyclists in his home (and yard). I am so grateful that we were able to experience his overflowing hospitality, and I hope I can give back even a fraction of what John gives.

Getting out of Butte was a steep suburban climb on paved roads through the unassuming and quiet town. We passed old mine yards with still-standing mining tanks and eventually made our way back onto quiet gravel backroads shaded by trees. It was mostly peaceful until two loose dogs charged after me, barking furiously. They didn't bite me, but they did the same to Uri as well. It's very unnerving to be chased by dogs, in large part because, in our experience, owners do little to nothing to curb their pets. "Ohh but he's so friendly!" they sometimes say, as the dog rushes and snaps at my ankles. Uri has even been bitten by a dog in the past, so we are particularly jaded against unchained dogs.

Not long afterward, we reunited with Peanut! It was a major flashback–– Peanut was the ~50 YO cyclist who had fixed my derailleur back in Abiquiu, NM after my crash. He was a bike mechanic, and he had slowed his pace since splitting from his riding partners (they were biking too aggressively fast for the type of trip he wanted to have). So, we spent much of the day riding together again and catching up on how the trip has been.

Along the way to our halfway point, Basin, Uri had a concerning fall coming down a hill. He unclipped and jumped off his bike quick enough to not get injured, but a few components on his bike were bent. Peanut was happily there to provide a helping hand getting things straightened out.

We headed to the Basin Community Center for lunch which was a delightful find. The benefit of having Casey's sister, Kate, biking southbound as we go northbound is that she provided us with wonderful intel on the road ahead. We punched in the code to get into the center and spent a slow lunch having the food we bought at the grocery store in the morning, in addition to some snacks and coffee provided by the center. It is an amazing resource for cyclists, and they allow overnight stays! Places like this continue to amaze me.

The afternoon's challenge was the notorious Lava Mountain. I got the sense that most cyclists biked Lava Mountain or Fleecer Ridge before Butte, but not both: quite a few folks mentioned skipping Lava because they had done Fleecer (or vice versa for Uri and I). Casey would be doing both! And Lava really did live up to the hype: the ride quickly became a mix of steep hike-a-bike, chunky rock gardens, and technical descending. Casey and I took a tumble or two along the way, but thankfully nothing serious happened besides my derailleur getting banged up again, what else was new. Though we all tackled this mountain with enthusiasm and excitement! We had come from a long stretch of rolling flats, desert, and beating sun, and it had been a while since we had this kind of terrain (except Casey who did Fleecer). The diversity of the route giving us some obstacle mountain biking was really fun for us, and we had a beautifully long descent into Helena to cap off the day!

Though, Montana had also become remarkably humid suddenly, and we weren't used to being so...wet. We were constantly soaked with sweat, so when we reached a chilly stream we stripped off our shirts and washed them while cooling ourselves in the water. It evaporated in minutes and converted back to sweat, but the brief reprieve was welcomed.

One of the day's most memorable moments came when a huge herd of elk crossed the road ahead of us. We stopped and listened for some time as they called back and forth through the forest. If you haven't heard elk calls before, check this out. It was haunting.

We were carried into Helena, escorted by a brilliant orange sunset. After grabbing groceries at Town and County, we headed to the home of Kathy and Marty, friends of Peanut's. They were an older couple, likely in their 70s, who didn't hesitate to invite us into their home as well. Kathy made a glorious homemade lasagna, and we ogled at one of the most beautiful backyard gardens we'd ever seen: giant, ripe raspberries, blossoming flowers, and water features with fish. It was inspirational how they transitioned their suburban back yard into a place of magic. Being at John's in Butte and now here in Helena felt like a sure stroke of fortune. How did I get so lucky?

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Day 37: Helena to Llama Ranch, MT

42 miles; 3,980 ft of gain: Strava map

Marty's and Kathy's was a sticky place...we didn't want to leave. The morning unfolded very slowly over coffee with Marty in his peaceful backyard as he proudly showed us his koi (goldfish) pond, and then I took ample time to pick and eat many many red raspberries. Pictures together, numbers exchanged, and back on the road, kinda.

We made a few errands around Helena first. Uri needed work done at the bike shop, we wandered through a thrift store, explored downtown for a bit, and stocked up on groceries again before finally beginning the day's ride after noon. Peanut joined us again as we all planned a semi-short day at the Llama Ranch.

The ride itself was relatively short but fun, with occasional chunky sections balanced by smooth descents and increasingly lush forests. Tall stands of beargrass lined portions of the trail, their white flower stalks rising above the greenery like giant pom-poms. I felt like I was in Dr. Seuss's The Lorax.

By late afternoon/early evening, we reached the Llama Ranch, another famous and favorite stop for both Great Divide riders and Continental Divide Trail hikers. It's really amazing what the couple who owned the place has created: small cabins surrounded a grassy pasture filled with nearly a dozen tents. There was a bathhouse that looked like a tiny silo, with foot-pump powered water (or you could use the open bathtub in the center of the silo and be OK with the publicity of it). You could also follow pink signs to around the backside of their farmhouse: "Magic Refrigerator this way!" Inside awaited cold drinks and periodically sandwiches. Alpacas (not a single llama) wandered lazily around the property. Best of all of it: this was entirely free. The cabins, tenting, food, all of it. Free. They just wanted their guests to "Pay it Forward".

We finally met John, the owner of the ranch, as he was towing a wagon full of water around the property. He was tall, thin, and wore his white hair pulled back in a long pony-tail. He greeted us, and everyone, with the same question:

"So...what do you think about AI? Is it going to replace our jobs?"

It didn't take long to settle in. Uri and I joined many CDT hikers on the porch/ electronic charging station to eat our dinners. That evening, we met Madeline, another cyclist from Bozeman! She was biking southbound and had an incredible biking philosophy: she wouldn't record anything on social media, and she spent her days biking, swimming, painting, and reading. We immediately hit it off and promised to meet up once we were both back home.

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Day 38: Llama Ranch to Ovando, MT

64 miles; 4,488 ft of gain: Strava map

As usual, we are typically the last ones arriving in the evening and the last ones leaving in the morning. Most others were packed and out by 8-8:30 AM. However, we had alpacas to feed! John gave us buckets of grain as we watched the alpacas chow down on their meal. Eventually, we rolled out around 9:30 with Peanut joining us for the day.

The day opened with an eight-mile climb immediately. It was steep, it was chunky, and it took quite a bit of time to get to the top. Though it also rewarded us with an exhilarating descent into Lincoln!

Lincoln turned out to be one of those small Montana towns that somehow has everything you need on one main road. We bought a rotisserie chicken at the grocery store, made fresh sandwiches for lunch, and then wandered across the street to catch part of the Men’s World Cup semifinal soccer at the local bar: Argentina v England. Two young guys also on the divide from the UK were there too, and there was a bit of friendly tension as Uri rooted for Argentina (who ended up winning).

One of the best parts about scaling back our mileage to be <70 miles a day is that we can have a significant lounging period in the middle of the day. With the soccer game, a round of pool, and an impromptu art walk, we had burned a number of hours in Lincoln before needing to keep going. Lincoln's outdoor art walk was really whimsy and worth it––Casey and I rode our bikes through the woods, weaving among large wooden sculptures scattered throughout the park. It was fascinating and gorgeous!

A gentle afternoon climb led to another long descent into Ovando, an even smaller town tucked into the valley. It had just a handful of businesses (i.e. a general store, diner) and a church that allowed cyclists to sleep inside. By the time we got there, the space in the church was near-full with older cyclists who started their day many hours before we did.

No matter. We opted (and preferred to) camp inside the grassy town park, surrounded by an electric fence designed to keep bears away from campers. A woman had been killed by a grizzly here several years earlier after sleeping with food in her tent, prompting the town to invest heavily in bear safety. Between the electric fence, charging outlets, a water pump, and a porta-potty, it turned out to be one of our better camping spots. The residents loved the cyclists that biked through town and helped boost the economy, so they really gave us all the essentials we needed! Also, sometimes we sleep better outside in our own tents with the comfort of a fresh breeze rather than inside a stuffy building surrounded by snoring folks with sleep apnea. So, it was a great night in the park!

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Day 39: Ovando to Holland Lake, MT

65 miles; 4,954 ft of gain: Strava map

Unlike Lima, Ovando kindly warned campers when the sprinklers would turn on, so there were no surprise showers in the early morning dawn.

Peanut decided to depart from us this morning as he got on the road earlier than we did. Conversely, Uri and I began the morning at the Stray Bullet Café, a classic Montana diner full of cowboy-themed artwork, including paintings of cowboys roping trout at a rodeo. It was named after the literal stray bullet that was still embedded in the side of the building. We loaded up on amazing diner coffee, eggs, and toast before continuing to pack our bags before the sprinklers set off at 9 AM.

Casey had slept later than us and also wanted to go to the diner for breakfast, so we all decided to reconvene at Seeley Lake around lunchtime.

Seeley Lake was slightly off-route (~1 mile downhill) but 100% worth it to stop there. There, we downed sugary iced coffee at the cafe and had burgers and milkshakes at the BBQ joint as you enter town. A quick pit-stop at Dollar General (seriously, the most affordable snacks on the whole tour), and then we all biked to the lake for a swim break. The heat was overwhelming today, and the lake water was absolutely refreshing. We spent time lounging in the shade and swimming, enjoying having another mid-afternoon layover like we did in Lincoln. The campground here would have been an ideal place to stay, but we decided to push ahead to get our loose mileage goal in.

From Seeley Lake to Holland Lake was single-handedly one of the best sections on the entire tour. It was challenging, yes, but it was mind blowing. After some tough, sun-exposed uphill gravel, the trail turned into a shaded, forested single track. We rode single file as we climbed onto a flower-covered ridgeline lined with blooming beargrass, mountains rising high up on the landscape. A densely-vegetated section followed that felt like bushwacking, then followed by wide gravel roads graded for cars again as we sped downhill giddy with excitement. We turned onto doubletrack forest service roads, positively coated with yellow wildflowers that glowed in the golden hour light.

By evening, we reached Holland Lake, searching through several RV campground areas before finding a place where the cyclists stay. The campground host, Kirk, greeted and took a liking to us. He came around periodically to chat, offering us soap and deodorant (OK yeah we were probably rank) and then ice cream and chocolate. We pitched our tents by the edge of the water, taking in one final, chilly, refreshing dip before hitting the sack.

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Day 40: Holland Lake to Ferndale, MT

71 miles; 4839 ft of gain: Strava map

Light pitter patters of rain tapped our tent, and I rushed out to grab my clothes that were "drying" on my bike. Not much dries in a humid night, by the way. But, it gave me the chance to enjoy the sunrise over Holland Lake which painted the sky pink and orange while the water remained perfectly still. A noisy crow functioned as a morning rooster and had Casey up and nearly packed before Uri and I even got out of our tent (a one-time event). I managed to sneak in one more quick swim before breakfast and departure. Ahhh the glory of fresh water!

The day quickly turned hot, humid, and swampy. We were soaked almost constantly in sweat but also we stopped at multiple creek crossing to cool ourselves. After plunging in cold water at a stream during our lunch break, I watched steam literally rise off my shirt as it dried in the warm air. My shirt dried in minutes before it resoaked with sweat.

On the way, we met a father and son from Scotland riding together. During this moment, a pop-up rain shower started but quickly stopped again (our first and only real rain of the tour), giving us all the excuse to chat and exchange some snacks. And they were a pleasure to talk with! They were both very happy and charmed by their trip southbound from Banff to the Tetons. To them, the United States was so beautiful, and it gave them the chance to experience such novel landscapes and architecture. It is always heartwarming for me to hear international visitors loving my country.

"Our friends were worried for us," the dad said. "The news makes it seem like ICE is going to be on the other side waiting to detain and question you. But every single person that we have met here has been so kind. Nazis don't ride bicycles I guess!"

Most of the day followed unbelievable forested double-track roads before finishing with one final climb. We took an ample break to hype ourselves up for the big energy push, fighting off mosquitoes as we snacked and mentally prepared. Uri and I also cooled ourselves in another creek, making the ascent more enjoyable for about 2 minutes. The grade was steady, and we were over it before we knew it.

It was getting into the evening when we detoured briefly into the tiny Ferndale market for supplies. There weren't many more resupply options around, so we ordered fresh burritos/burrito bowls from the kitchen. A father with a son even bought us ice cream sandwiches while we were hanging out at the store!

We had also been loitering at the market for some time now, discussing where to stay the night. Not far near the river was public land and a trail system which we were going to attempt to camp at. But then things became even better. Jason, a ~40 YO who lived nearby, invited us to camp in his yard instead of the public land. He bought us beer and (more!) ice cream, and after we pitched our tents in his yard, he brought over grilled chicken for dinner. The four of us spent the evening chatting while thunderstorms and wind built dramatically around us.

"Um, should we be worried about trees coming down?" I asked concerned as the tall trees whipped back and forth around us.

"Not at all. For as long as I've been here, there has never been an issue!" He affirmed, as Casey, Uri, and I all watched in real time as branches were breaking off trees and watched one fall into the bed of his truck.

Despite the threatening skies, the storms passed without much trouble, and we slept comfortably that night.

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Day 41: Ferndale to Upper Whitefish Lake, MT

67 miles; 3566 ft of gain: Strava map

We packed up from Jason's place before returning to the market for hot coffee in the morning. Today didn't feel particularly challenging as there was more speedy pavement than usual, we had a long layover in Columbia Falls, and we ended at another really great campground for the evening.

One major highlight came from stopping at a lemonade stand, not far before Columbia Falls. Two early teenage girls were raising money for camp. While we were standing there filling up on the cold drinks, a car suddenly pulled over. DJ and Triss! Our friends that we met on the road back in Wyoming! They had just finished the Great Divide to the Canadian border and rented a car to head back to California, and they had been following our tracker. They surprised us with snacks and cold drinks! It was such an incredibly thoughtful gesture that all of us were genuinely moved.

We were in high spirits following that interaction when we reached Columbia Falls, where I once again dropped my bike off for derailleur adjustments at A7 Cycles after Lava Mountain had bent it yet again. My chain was also nearing the end of its life and likely the cassette too. We weren't too far away from finishing that I was hoping I could hold out on those replacements until after the tour.

While waiting for the bike maintenance, we wandered the thrift store where I replaced my completely worn-out socks that had at least 5 holes per sock, and Casey found a new pair of pants after hers tore a giant hole in the butt cheek. Finally, we all stocked up at Smith's with real food and produce for lunch. Gosh, bike tours remind me how much I take for granted fresh food.

The long lunch had my legs aching when I started up again. My right knee was sending warning signals that I suppressed to the best of my ability. Most of my pain had been fleeting, but the knee pain today had been constant for the rest of the day. Also, casually, the tips of my toes were starting to feel a little numb from time to time. No biggie.

I had high expectations for Whitefish based on what I had heard about it, but it was really disappointing when we passed through. A festival had filled the town with big trucks and fast traffic, making biking through stressful with the lack of road shoulder. Once in town, it was so hot that we just powered across town and got back onto quiet gravel roads in the trees.

Phew, civilization in our review mirror, we climbed long and steadily until we lost cell service and then reached the tranquil northern end of Whitefish Lake.

There were a lot of free campsites around, many filled with folks already. One couple had offered us a spot in their campsite if we couldn't find one ourselves, which was incredibly kind of them to do. But, we lucked out. Our campsite sat tucked into the woods, with close access to the lake. We all took one final, very cold swim to wash away another long day's worth of sweat and grime.

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Day 42: Upper Whitefish Lake to Eureka, MT

73 miles; 3878 ft of gain: Strava map

The alarm rang at 4:30 AM. Why? Well, Uri needed to see Argentina play in the World Cup at 1 PM today, so we had to bike 70 miles before the game started. I felt obligated to join Uri, but Casey was definitely not waking up early to watch the soccer game. So, Uri and I took off into the early morning. Loons called across the lake as we packed our bags, their haunting voices echoing through the still morning air. This morning was also one of my greatest concerns for bear activity given our early dawn start, so Uri and I made a point to be loud as we rounded corners and barreled down hills.

The day featured two final significant climbs. We crested one ridge immediately in the morning, descended, and immediately began another long, steady ascent. The route here was stunning, with perfect gravel, prominent forested mountainsides, and winding roads that would periodically drop off on the side. More roadside flowers blossomed!

Later, we learned that around this section was when Casey encountered a bear. She had been biking downhill, and before cresting uphill again, a large grizzly had been lumbering across the road. Both Casey and the bear were each spooked by one another, and the bear took off running, fortunately. But, Uri and I saw 0 bears and (to my dismay) not much wildlife really for the rest of the trip. No mountain goats boooooo!

Unfortunately, as the morning continued and as we descended into the final valley into town, wildfire smoke began drifting back into the valleys, making the distant mountain views hazy. It wasn't strong enough to impact our breathing like in Colorado, but it was something we could physically see still.

So, we finally enjoyed a fast gravel descent that transitioned onto pavement. It was after 12 PM and we still had 12 miles to go. So, we dug in and powered through. We raced the final miles into Eureka, arriving at The Front Porch barely ten minutes before kickoff, just in time to grab a seat and cheer on Argentina. They ended up losing to Spain, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself as I had time to write and eat a massive burger, fries, and huckleberry milkshake.

Around 4 PM, we made a pit stop at Dollar General and cruised our way over to our Warmshowers hosts for the evening: Jillian and Chris Seng. Their house was exactly on the route, and they leave out coolers of drinks for cyclists passing by. Being the only WS in Eureka, I had messaged them a week in advance, with enough certainty of our arrival. And they were so sweet and welcoming! Both artists, Jillian is an art teacher with her own studio, and Chris is a carpenter. They invited us into their space, gave us showers and laundry, and we all had dinner together of chicken bratwursts and salad. It was such a pleasure talking to them because they had just finished the Great Divide recently as well!

And that wraps up our last day in the United States. This past week was one for the books, and I will forever be heart-warmed and grateful for all the amazing people that we met!

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