a little more time in whitefish

I liked Ian and Angela, so I decided to stay another day with them.  That, and the Star Trek/beer combo really left me with some pain that morning.  I couldn’t have cycled if I wanted to.  I spent the day going to the farmer’s market with Angela looking at cool, over-priced crafts and foods.

I took on the part of weirdo and hoola-hooped with all the children.  Some children stepped away from me.  I could hear their whispers…”Mom, why is this ugly guy hoola-hooping near me?”

Angela went into the library.  I couldn’t go in because they didn’t let people in with rollerblades.  Either rollerblades were really popular in Whitefish or this sign was made in the early 90s.

I bought some bacon to make with the pancakes for dinner that evening.  Angela, a cook at Safeway, ate half of the pancakes and fed the rest to her dogs.  I thought they were pretty good.  I guess she didn’t.  We watched An Inconvenient Truth during dinner.  Terrible.  Half of the film was about Al Gore’s boring life and how he developed a life-threatening disease called Crappy Narrator’s Disease.  He probably should have taken voice-acting lessons.  I felt like I was listening to Ben Stein.

onward to eureka

It was a tough goodbye.  I would leave alone.  Ian and Angela would stay in Whitefish with their love.  I should probably look for pathetic people to stay with for now on…not happy, in-love people.

They saw how heartbroken I was to leave them, so Ian welcomed me into his arms, embracing me for hours.

The ride to Eureka was pretty uneventful.  I had a couple oncoming cars come into my lane while passing slower moving cars.  One huge truck almost clipped me with his unnecessarily huge side-view mirror.  I didn’t flinch and steadied my course.  I bet he was really really mad.

I got a great view of Dickey Lake along the highway.  I celebrated with a Gala apple.

After eating a burger in the town of Eureka, I cycled to Marina and Chad’s house, which lies near the Canadian border.  Chad, a talented builder, built the house with his bare hands.  Marina moved to the United States from England and works in costume/warddrobe for the television industry.  She works on all the Jack in the Box commercials.  You know that guy in the snowman head?  Yep.  She that’s her work.  We talked showbiz for hours.

a little headstart

It was Father’s Day, so I woke up, called my two pops, and cried.  They realized their son was a girl and hung up on me.

I walked in the kitchen and wished Bill a happy Father’s Day.  He was busy cooking up some breakfast for me and Diane.  Man…when did this generosity end?  They also told me they’d drive me up to the campground so I could have a full day of hiking and cycling in the park.  I loved these guys.  Please be my second family, Diane and Bill.

Bill drove us up to Hungry Horse Dam.  Huge.

And we stopped to admire some rapids.  I secretly admired their love.

Finally, they dropped me off at Avalanche Campground.  I said goodbye to them.  Bill felt weird about just dropping me off.  I kept telling him I’d be OK and that I had everything I needed to live.  I didn’t tell him I needed love.  I wanted love.  That would have been awkward, so I kept up the machismo.

avalanche lake…hi…hello…how are you

Avalanche campground was situated right next to Avalanche Creek.  Hiking up along the creek, I’d be able to get to Avalanche Lake.  I heard it was gorgeous, so off I went.

There were a ton of hikers out on the trail.  It was very different from Yellowstone.  There, no one would get out of their cars.  Here, you had to get your ass out and hike to see anything cool.  This was both a good and bad thing.  Every time I passed someone, they said hello and asked how I was doing.  I probably said hello about 80 times on this 2.5 mile hike up to the lake.  I wanted to be European and just nod, but I couldn’t let myself do that.  I felt obligated to smile.  Most of them were probably wondering why the hell I was wearing cyclist clothing.

Most of the hike was in the woods.  I turned a corner and all this lush vegetation came out of nowhere.

I finally got to the lake.  It was spectacular.

There were tons of waterfalls to the southeast emptying into the lake.  I wasn’t satisfied with this view.  I wanted one without a treeline in the foreground.

I continued my hike until the trail ended.  Hmm.  I went along a worn trail obstructed with tons of fallen trees.  My goal was to get to a snowfield and get a good shot for Shannon’s Father’s Day message on the bike board.  After a little bit more hiking, I finally found the spot.

Bam.

I hiked back down in the rain.

unsatisfied and bored, no longer

It was 6:30 PM.  I wasn’t tired and had already eaten dinner.  I wanted more.  I went over to speak to one of the park employees.  Mid-conversation, I said, “Yeah, I wish Logan Pass was open to bikers because Id love to do it right now.”

“Huh?  It is open to hikers and bikers.  Just not cars,” he said.  WHAT!?  Why was I still standing there?  Being this far north, there was ambient light until 10:30-11 PM.  I had plenty of time.  I saddled up and took off.

My legs were pounding on the pedals once again.  I was riding unloaded and was going uphill at 16 mph.  It was like I had been training in 4x Earth gravity, and now I was cycling in 1x gravity.  Well.  I guess technically I was with as much weight as I’d been carrying.

The ride up was about 18 miles of uphill, but I was conquering it with ease.  Man, I wish I could ride like this all the time.  I could do 100 mile days every day easily.  Without the bags, I had a chance to take in the beauty of Going-to-the-sun Road.

I caught two other cyclists fully loaded going up the pass.  They were a little overweight and were gasping for breath.  I started talking their heads off.  I was riding on a huge high.  I could tell the wife was getting annoyed with me.  I was speaking to them without taking a breath, and here they were vomiting off the sides of their bikes.  They were trying to get over the pass and find a campground.  I took a hint and cycled off.

Wildlife comes out in hordes around sundown.  This mountain goat started walking towards me without fear.  He was probably 10 feet away from me.  I didn’t know if he was going to headbutt me off the side of the mountain.

Westward shot of the valley.  The sun was cresting on the mountains breaking through the clouds, creating a somewhat angelic effect on the landscape.

The road was littered with these beautiful falls going down the side of the mountain.

I couldn’t believe that this road was still there in one piece.  The masonry was very impressive.

And here’s the Weeping Wall.

I got a few more shots for Shannon close to the top of Logan Pass.  I was a little cocky with my handstand and probably shouldn’t have done it.  When you look over the wall, it’s straight down.  But I did it anyways.

I got to the top of Logan Pass.  A cloud covered the entire top of the mountain.  I felt great.  This had been the most beautiful 3 hours of cycling of the entire trip.  ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?

Yay.

I cycled back down the pass.  It was getting dark.  I had putzed around a while and ended up killing a lot of time.  It was hard not to.  Every view was incredible.  I saw the cyclists on the way down.  I was still full of energy, and they were dead tired and annoyed once again by me talking.  They did tell me there had been a black bear just 2 miles back.  Cycling down, I found out it was where I was taking pictures for Shannon.  Damnit!

I kept talking to people on the way down.  They told me they always see mountain lions on the side of the road at this time.  ‘Tons’ they said.  Shit.  I had like 12 miles to go, and it was pretty much dark.

I killed more time taking pictures of this buck walking right with me.  It was not scared by an ugly cyclist.  He was only 6 feet away.

I couldn’t believe I made it back to camp.  It was nearly pitch black.  On the remaining few miles of the ride down, I had shut my iPod off and was freaking out at nearly every animal sighting I had.  I did not want to run into a bear or lion in the dark.

rain, rain, and more rain

It had started raining pretty hard by the time I crawled into my tent.  I thought for sure by the time I woke up the rain would be gone.

It wasn’t.  Shit.  You can’t cycle certain sections of Glacier from 11-4 PM.  It was 8 AM.  Maybe in an hour or two it would stop.

It didn’t.  Shit.  Now I’m stuck at the campground from 11-4 PM.  It was pouring.  If it was a drizzle, I would have had no problem packing up.  I sat there staring at the top of the tent for a few hours.  I had nothing to read and was desperate for the rain to stop.  I read shitty stuff like the bear mace instructions and the tag on my sleeping bag.  God.  This sucked.  Did you know that bear mace was only good for 7.2 seconds before being completely gone?

I fell back asleep and woke up at 2 PM to the sound of thud, thud, thud on my tent roof.  Yep.  Still raining.  I cursed the weather, but then I felt bad about doing that because it would only punish me more.  Maybe this was Glacier’s way of punishing me for gloating at the top of Logan Pass.

I said ‘screw it’ and got out of my tent.  I begrudgingly packed up.  Everything was wet.  There was a leak through the side stitching of my tent.  I was supposed to camp that night.  I thought about it for a while and decided to head out to Whitefish.  The rain was still going strong, and it had been nearly 18 hours since the rain started.  Total mind job.  I was frustrated but very grateful that the weather gave me a chance the previous night to cycle Logan Pass.

nathaan, my hero

I cycled about 16 miles down to Apgar Village along Lake McDonald.

I was walking around like an idiot with my phone in the air staring at my absence of signal bars.  A dark-haired guy came up to me and asked me about my trip.  His name was Nathaan.  I could immediately tell that he was a positive, energetic guy.  I enjoyed talking to him, but he had somewhere to go.  He walked off, and I continued trying to find a spot that had at least a bar of coverage.

I failed to find a solid spot for service.  Agh.  At that time, Nathaan came back up to me and offered me a ride to Whitefish, which was about 25-ish miles away.  Hell yes.  I wanted to hoist him up on my shoulders and celebrate, but that might have been a little awkward.  I smiled and a new positive energy overcame me.  On the ride to Whitefish, I found out Nathaan was a huge soccer player.  He had been on the reserves squad in the UK for a Premiere League team.  This guy had to be a high-caliber player.

We spent about 30 minutes talking at a coffee shop in Whitefish before he took off to soccer practice.  When he left, I went in for a man hug.  He had put his hand out, and my body crushed his goodbye gesture.  Shit.  I called myself on it and demanded a re-do.  I fucked it up again.  God I’m pathetic.  I think I’m just an awkward person when it comes to all of that.  He was smooth.  I was a bumbling idiot.  It was a good way to say goodbye I guess.

star trek and beer

Angela, my couchsurfing host for the night, was cool with me coming a day early, but she wasn’t home from work yet.  I met up with Ian, her boyfriend that lived with her.  I waited for him at the city beach that they lived near.  I felt like I was on an episode of Blind Date.  My back was to him, and he walked up.  “Ryan?” he said.

It could have been a gay episode of Blind Date. I got along really well with him.  He gave me some of his home-brewed beer, and I offered to buy us some Missoula-brewed beer.  We talked for a few hours, downing beer after beer.  I felt like a man again, until Angela got home and later made fun of how well we got along.  “Did you guys make out last night and have sex?” she asked me the next day.  Can’t two guys just intimately talk and drink beers together???  While being shirtless???

We spent the rest of the night watching Star Trek episodes.  They were actually really good.  Man.  What was I turning into?  Angela couldn’t take the nerdiness and went to bed.

FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT

After eating some blueberry pancakes with Stacey, I hopped on the highway going north to Flathead Lake.  I was riding on a pretty big shoulder when a white van crossed over the rumble strip only a few feet away from me.  I gave him a “what the hell” gesture with my arm, and the passenger looked back at me through the rear window.  Were these guys messing with me?

I’ve learned that waving to people instead of reacting with the middle finger pisses people off even more.  Asshole drivers don’t like it when they realize you aren’t affected by their devious ways.  Needless to say, I waved to the white van.

SCREEEEECH.  They slammed on their brakes a hundred feet ahead of me, and the driver stormed out of the car.  He threw up his arms in wild gestures.  I had no clue why he was angry, but I was looking forward to hearing his explanation.  I continued to wave to him as I closed in on his position, but I think this fueled his anger.  Just before I got to him, he hopped in his car and took off.  For the rest of the day, I was fantasizing about this white van pulling up behind me and going after me offroad as I veered into a forest.  I wanted ET to be on my front pannier so I’d ride off a cliff and fly as the white van ran into a canyon, exploding violently upon impact.

That never happened.  But at one point in the day, a white van pulled up next to me, matching my speed.  Shit!  They followed me!  I looked over.  It was a big woman smiling at me.  It was a little awkward.  I nodded and smiled.  She continued to wave.  Um.

flathead lake

I decided to go off-route a little and take the scenic ride on the eastern side of Flathead Lake.  I was told by numerous people in Montana that this road had no shoulder.  Hmm.  The best way to get people to slow down was to make a solid, humorous bike board message.  So I decided to write what would be my sad, pathetic newspaper dating ad:

Every single person on that highway slowed down to read the board.  That sign probably saved my life because there was absolutely no shoulder on the road.  It was full of semitrailers hauling ass.

The rain had been coming down pretty hard all day, so I decided to stop by a burger joint and treat myself to lunch.

you been stoned?

This guy at the burger place took an interest in my bike and struck up a conversation.  We got to talking, and he started telling me that his family was in Canada.  “Oh?  Do you go up and see them often?” I asked.  He told me he can’t go into Canada for reasons that he didn’t want to get into.

He then proceeded to ask me if I’ve been stoned and if I wanted to come over to his house to smoke some bud.  After saying this, he uncontrollably laughed through his missing teeth.  Hmm.  This guy just told me he can’t get into Canada.  Maybe he had a male touring cyclist fetish.  I kindly declined his offer and cycled off to Kalispell.

sad, wet cyclist and paying it forward

I turned onto Highway 93 going towards Kalispell.  There was a driver that looked over at me and stared.  I gave him the ‘ugly face’ and did a horrible smile.  He laughed and waved.  That made me happy.

I was going along the bike path to town when I saw a cyclist walking his bike on the side of the highway.  I pulled up next to him and accidentally startled him.  His name was Logan.  He was a mentally handicapped guy who had gotten a flat tire.  He had been walking his bike in the rain for miles, and no one had stopped to ask him if he was OK.  I couldn’t leave him and do nothing.  The Ryan before this trip would have easily done that.  “Oh, someone else will pull over and help him.  I’m sure that guy knows what he’s doing,” the old Ryan would have said.  Being on this trip, I’ve been helped by so many people.  It would have been a shit thing to just keep going.

I asked him what size his tires were.  He didn’t know.  He was walking it to his house about 5 miles away.  That would have taken him two hours easily at the trudgingly slow pace he was going.  Plus it was raining.  I asked him if he’d ever hitchhiked.  He didn’t know what it was or how to do it.  I considered riding to town to pick up a tube, but that would have taken quite a while.

I wiped off my bike board message and replaced it with this:

I stood there for a while with the sign in my hands and my thumb out.  I was trying to target trucks but started going after cars.  Man.  These fucking people were not even looking at me and did everything to avoid eye contact.  They would look away as they drove by, pretending not to see me there.  I was getting pissed.  I was getting pissed for Logan.

A truck finally slows down, and a guy named Van tells me to throw the bike in the back.  I told Van the situation, and Logan was very grateful for the help.  When cycling through town, I tried to track Logan down by stopping at the bike shop.  I was going to try paying for his tube.  The bike shop employee was pretty cool and said if Logan stopped by, they’d hook him up.  Hopefully Logan will take his bike there.

I understand the implicit fear people have of strangers, but that only shuts you out from meeting great people and doing great things.  At least take a moment to ‘size’ up a hitchhiker or someone who is stranded calling out for help.  To drive by and avoid eye contact was a heartbreaking thing for me.  There was no compassion. Eoin mentioned this type of thing to me before this trip as he lent a guy his cellphone, but I now fully understand what he meant.  A small gesture means so much to people, and it will go a long ways.

kalispell

I got to Diane and Bill’s house later that evening.  I spent time talking to their two sons, Zach and Marshall, before their parents got home.   We talked about video games, babes, and more babes.  Weird old guy on a bicycle talking to teenagers about babes.

Diane and Bill own a heating and air business in town and are really passionate about their company.  I soon learned that they were very energetic, positive people and a blast to be around.  Diane cooked up spaghetti that night, and we all spent a little time watching some Eddie Izzurd before I hopped in their hot tub.

The next day was spent updating the blog.  There was a gay pride march in town, and I begged Zack and Marshall to attend it with me.  We could have marched shirtless down the street.  Sadly, they declined.  Later that evening, Diane cooked up some elk burgers and cheese broccoli.  More calories to heal my broken muscles.

And then I sat the whole family down for a talk.  “Listen guys, there’s something I’ve been hiding,” I said in a hushed tone.  Then out came my secret weapon.  Yo Zack, Marshall, Diane, and Bill…You got BROWNED!

hitting it hard

I was sad to say goodbye to Liz.  She had been great to me.  As a final touch on an amazing stay, she gave me a University of Montana t-shirt.  Awesome.  I gave her a hug goodbye and rode off in solitude.

I had been antsy to hop on the bike for a few days.  For the first few hours of the ride, my legs were pounding on the pedals.  It felt really good.  I hadn’t had a challenging ride for over a week, and I was ready for one.  I made a pretty decent climb heading north out of Missoula.  I hit what seemed to be 15 miles of construction.  I went through huge sections of highway that were gravel with no shoulder.  It was also pouring rain too.  This rain seemed to be following me.  It liked me, but I didn’t like it.

After a few hours of cycling, I stopped at the National Bison Range to rest.  I was treated with this awesome view of the Swan Range.

I was happy to get a call from Eoin.  He was checking in on me.  Really good friend.  I needed someone to talk to after leaving Missoula.  I missed riding with him…I missed his company.  I offered to pay him back for his Skype call, but he refused.  He kindly accepted the $.02 a minute charge.  Good friend.  Great friend.

stacey forgot my name

That night I’d be pitching a tent in someone’s yard.  I had contacted Thomas, a touring cyclist, and he told me it was cool to camp in his yard.  He wouldn’t be there, but his wife Stacey would be.

I rolled up to their house early in the evening.  Their cabin was right next to the mountains.  Stacey welcomed me into the house and asked me what I wanted to eat.  I told her steak and potatoes.  And a lot of beer.  I also demanded chocolates.  And I wanted to watch Pay-per-view.

Actually, she offered to cook up some Mexican food, and she did offer me beer.  She also told me that I could roll out my sleeping bag on the screened-in porch due to all the rain.  Sweet.

Stacey, Thomas, and their son had done bicycle tours of Europe.  Their last trip was 10 months.  Pretty awesome.  Later, Stacey told me she’d give her friend in Washington a call to see if it was cool if I could stay with them when passing through.  She called them up, and I quickly found out that Stacey had forgotten my name.  Man.  I’m worthless.  She thought it was funny that she had forgotten her name.  She proceeded to call me Bob.  What?  You don’t know my name so you give me ridiculously common name.  Was that a guess or did you think my name was Bob?  She continued to laugh.  Thanks Kelly.

I crawled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep pretty quickly.

Doherty, Doherty?

I woke up that morning with a renewed happiness.  I was going to see my girl after being months on the road without seeing a familiar face.  I was actually getting butterflies about seeing her, like a first date or something.

Liz was kind enough to drive to the airport and pick up Ashley with me.  Prior to this, I was going to pick Ashley up on bicycle.  I didn’t know how it was going to work, but it would have had to work.

I whipped out the bike board and wrote Doherty on it.  I wanted to make sure I had the right person and that she had the right person.  She might not recognize me with my facial hair and buzz cut.  And my huge legs and scrawny upper body.  And really brown arms.

I saw her a hundred feet away wandering around.  She turned around and started walking towards me.  She saw the sign and started laughing.  Butterflies were taking over my stomach.  The song from Pretty Woman started playing over the airport speakers, and Ashley literally slowed down her walk, her hair defying gravity as it whooshed back and forth.  She and everyone else at the airport were in slo-mo.  Was this happening?  No.  None of that happened, but I wish it did.

I was happy.  Very happy.  It’s hard to describe seeing someone close to you after being in unfamiliar places by yourself for such a long time.  You suddenly feel grounded.  But I had grown as a person, and the Ryan prior to March 17th was a different person from the Ryan that stood before her.  Would we get along?  How would the week turn out?  Would she have fun with the new Ryan?  I was anxious to find out.  A huge positive energy flowed all around me once she was in my presence.

a piece of my experience

I was really looking forward to showing Ashley what this trip meant to me.  I wanted her to experience the things I was experiencing.  For the week, that would mean:  exploring towns, cycling, camping, couchsurfing, and meeting new people.  Before she came out, we had disagreements on what to do.  I didn’t want to stay in a hotel and be cooped up from experiences.  Hotels usually result in vegetating and watching a stupid amount of TV in an over-air-conditioned room.  Screw that noise.

We came to an agreement, and she would be open to these experiences.  And I told her I’d make sure she’d have a great time.

UM Mountain

Liz told us that we should hike up to the ‘M’ that overlooks the University of Montana and the entire city.  Liz also kindly let Ashley use her cruiser bike.  Awesome!  I wouldn’t have to worry about getting us to a bike shop in town and finding her a bike.

We cycled down to UM Mountain, a 3 mile ride.  At first, I was really worried about Ashley being on a bike.  She hadn’t been on a bicycle since she was like 8.  I stayed behind her and to the left on the edge of the bike lane, forcing cars to slow down and pass us with ease.  Or they could have just hit me and not given a shit.  But all the drivers in Missoula are very kind and give lots of space.  There were a ton of cyclists in this city, and bikes lane were on nearly every street.

We made it down to the university without any problems.  I was proud of Ashley.  No complaints.  No bitching.  Now we had a big hike up to the M, which was incredibly steep.  Tons of people were out there hiking.

We took our time hiking up, chatting and laughing.  We finally got to the top and partied our asses off.  It was a pretty incredible view of the city.

Ashley sunbathed on the ‘M’.

And we celebrated by doing handstands.  I couldn’t have her come on this trip and not be a part of the handstand motif.

We hiked back down and hopped back on the bikes.  This would be a 3 mile ride uphill back to Liz’s house.  I was anxious to see how Ashley would take it.  She took it…and well.  She only stopped once.  I was the positive cheerleader behind her.  It probably got really annoying constantly hearing these phrases:

I’m proud of you!

You’re almost there.

You’re doing great.

You’re doing awesome.

Great job!

I just wanted her to stay positive and not get burned out on cycling the very first day.  She ended up doing great and making it back in one piece.  I cooked up some quesadillas and brownies.

Yo Liz and Ashley…you got BROWNED!

lolo hot springs

Ashley and I had been planning on visiting a place called Lolo Hot Springs before she came out.  I had looked on the map and questioned whether she’d be able to cycle that far.  It was 40 miles from Liz’s house, and all she had was a single-speed cruiser bike.  Ashley didn’t have padded shorts, but I gave her mine and they ‘kind of’ fit.  The plan was to cycle to Lolo, camp for two nights, and enjoy the hot springs and amenities there.  It really looked like a nice place.  The website bragged about their beautiful, secluded tent sites and wonderful, clean facilities.  The restaurant was great dining, and the hot springs were not to be rivaled.  Sounded great.  Off we went.

The ride out of town was downhill and flat.  I was worried about the ride up to the town of Lolo, which was 15 miles from Liz’s house.  Parts of the highway had guard rails and incredibly small shoulders…not the place for a new cyclist.  There were also parts of it that had a pretty decent grade of 5-6%.  Ashley conquered it, and I was proud of her.  To celebrate, we stopped at a McDonald’s to eat lunch.

ugly, mean, fat lady

I sat down at a table while Ashley ordered food.  Just next to my table sat a woman with two kids and her old parents.  I began crunching into my apple, and her son turned around and said, “Mom, he’s eating an apple.  Why?”  The kid was confused I was eating a piece of fruit?  He probably didn’t know what an apple was by the looks of the mother.  She probably fed them chicken nuggets and french fries every day.

I shrugged it off.  It’s just a kid.  The mom said under her breath but clearly audible to me, “I don’t understand why people bring food into McDonald’s.  It’s a restaurant.  That’s annoying.  Just get freaking food at the register and eat.”  She said a few more things that I could not hear.

What the hell?  You bitch.  I wanted to grab her head and throw it in the milkshake machine, dunking it later in a huge mound of ketchup.  We’re ordering food you asshole.  Last time I checked, there wasn’t an ‘Apple and Fries #5′ combo.  I guess I should have checked with her before bringing in the apple.  Clearly she was McDonald’s Security and fast-food ambassador.

I was grinding my teeth in anger.  Ashley sat back down at the table, and I asked, “Do you want a banana?  An apple?  A bagel with peanut butter?”  I wasn’t going to confront this lady and make it an awkward meal for the both of us.  I’d just piss her off by eating more food at McDonald’s.  Ashley didn’t know what was going on and continued to eat.

Here is this lady in all her ugly glory:

I wanted to take my revenge Chaucer-style by writing about her.  Yes, you got away with being a bitch.  But I have struck you down with my blog.

I happily ate a big burger.

rain and rain and rain and rain

Ashley and I had about 27 miles before we got to the hot springs.  Quite a ride.  The ride to Lolo had been pretty mild.  We’d be going uphill for the rest of the ride.  With full stomachs, we rode off in high spirits.

It didnt take long for the rain to dump on us.  I couldn’t believe it.  This huge storm system came out of nowhere and took a huge, watery crap on us.  Ashley persisted.

I was actually in a worse mood than she was.  She was manning up against the cold, wet rain better than I.  We stopped and threw on rain gear.

The last 10 miles were pretty hard on Ashley.  Our stops became more frequent, and Ashley was losing steam.  I kept telling her I was proud of her and she was doing great, but she told me to “shutup”.  Pretty funny, looking back.  Positive guy getting shut down.  There would be no cheerleading according to Ashley.

Turning the corner, Lolo Hot Springs came into view.  Ashley’s mood was instantly elevated, and she became a chatterbox.  I was happy she was happy.  We had overcome a struggle together, and I felt like our relationship had strengthened from that struggle.

lolo…no, no…

We pulled into the registration area.  I didn’t like the looks of this place, and it wasn’t what I saw on the website.  The website offered beautiful pictures.  This was not a beautiful picture.

The bear-proof dumpsters were overflowing with trash.  They weren’t very bear-proof when they’re like that, Lolo Hot Springs.  The tent site area was flooded and muddy.  Secluded?  My ass.  They were all out in an open grass field.  The rest of the place was jam-packed with RVs.  Really?  I couldn’t believe it.  I checked out the facilities.  Not well kept.  This was officially bullshit.  But we didn’t have much of an option.

We walked in to pay for a tent site.  There went $20.  I wanted a tipi site due to the rain, but the owner let me know that they weren’t doing tipis this year.  Uh, that’s not what your website said.  I wanted to scream, “LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE!”  This was the remains of a tipi site.

The owner was kind enough to let us know that they have a water contamination notice.  He wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t ask about the water condition.  The state evidently had slammed them with a warning about their water.  It was polluted and contaminated with God knows what.  He reassured me its fine to drink.  Ashley looked in their car.  They had bottled water.  Man, fuck this guy.  I was really pissed off about our situation.  I was mostly disappointed because I wanted Ashley to have a good time.

I set up camp, and we walked over to the restaurant.

$9 microwave dinners

We walked up the steps of the restaurant and saw this.  Great.  A pair of dirty BVD’s.  I bet this place has great food.  Really clean and scrumptious.  What the hell were a pair of dirty men’s underwear doing there?  More importantly, why hadn’t anyone picked them up?

We asked for a menu.  Cool.  Really shitty food for $9.  They couldn’t cook meals because of the water situation.  How about a notice on your website, you liars?  Your website was total bullshit.  I hope that people google this place and find this post.  To those people that do, do not go to this place.  It sucks hard.  A few people stopped by the restaurant to see what was up.  They walked in and had a “what the hell” look on their faces after seeing the menu.  Pretty funny.

Surrendering to the shittiness of the menu, I ordered a chicken sandwich and fries.  Ashley ordered a microwaveable cheese pizza.  We got canned cokes too.  That was the best part of the meal, actually.

nudie nite

We walked over to the hot springs after eating our wonderful meal.  We were informed that it was nudie nite at the hot springs.  We shrugged it off.  This might be interesting.  It was.

We saddled up in our bathing suits for an interesting night.  We went outside to the pool to mentally prepare.  There were a ton of naked old people in the indoors hot springs.  Oh man.  I kept telling myself to keep my eyes focused on the walls and to go to a happy place.  Be cool, Ryan.  Don’t freak out.  We were as prepared as we could possibly get.

We walked into the hot springs.  BAM.  A flood of small, unkept weeners engaged my eyes in a vicious stare down.  The weeners won.  There were old women nude in there too, but it was the weeners that beat me down.  I wanted to laugh hysterically but not in the humorous fashion.  This night had turned into some huge mind fuck.  Was I was in a romantic comedy?  Should I talk with an English accent like Hugh Grant for now on?

We made our way down into the hot springs.  I was mentally out of it.  Stupid me slipped on the last step and plunged into the hot water.  This brought all the attention to me.  No!  Pretend I’m not here.  I wanted to go underwater and hide.  Then I thought about it.  All of this water was flowing against the uncovered balls and weeners of these old men.  A patch of water caught some light, and what I saw almost made me projectile vomit into the old people’s faces.  Huge amounts of dead skin were floating by my chest, probably getting caught in my chest hair.  Great.  I’d go to bed in my sleeping bag knowing I was covered in ball skin.  Ashley laughed about it.

We sat in the water.  I looked into Ashley’s eyes and tried not to look away.  We were surrounded, like wildebeests surrounded by a pack of lions.  There was nowhere to sit on the edges of the hot springs without being next to someone.  Here we were, the only clothed people in the hot springs in the very center.  I could feel the eyes burning holes into me.  These people wanted to see my peepee.

creepy hairy guy

Throughout the nite, there was this one other fat hairy guy in a bathing suit at the hot springs staring at people.  He stared at me, and he stared at Ashley.  You know those eye contact wars you sometimes have with people?  This guy would not go down.  He was not human.  He would just stare a hole right through you.  It was bad.  If this guy had a theme song, it was Cropwell’s “Somebody’s Watching Me”.

I couldn’t take it.  I had to escape this guy.  We went out to the pool for a while, but it was pouring rain and very cold.  I wasn’t looking forward to the tent.  We had laid out our clothes on a table, and I’m sure the sleeping bag was wet too.  We came back in after a while, hoping he was gone.  He was still there but staring at other people.  “Quick, get in the water before he burns a hole into my pelvis region with his eyes!” I thought.

It was getting close to closing time, and all the old folks made their exit.  We stayed behind for a while.  Suddenly, the lights flicked on and off.  The lady at the desk was trying to pressure us to leave.  We had 45 minutes left.  We prepared to leave anyways.  Ashley overheard the lady talking on the phone.  She was getting booty-called and wanted to get the hell out of dodge.  This lady was huge too.  I didn’t want to think about it.

cold with no pillow

Sleeping in a one-man tent with two people was going to be a challenge.  I let Ashley use the sleeping bag and my pillow.  All my clothes were wet, so I had nothing to cover my body.  It was also going to dip down into the lower 40s.  I wanted Ashley to get a full nite’s rest because it was a huge day for her.  I figured I’d just suffer through it.

The nite was a long one for me.  I was sleeping on a mat with nothing on my body and nothing under my head.  I often woke up shivering my ass off.  I could feel the water seeping through the tent.  It continued to pour, and pour hard it did.

hangover morning

After a long nite, I woke up to a terrible headache and bloodshot eyes.  All the blood went into my head because of the slope of the ground and having no pillow.  I felt like shit run over.  I stumbled to the bathroom with poor vision.  Everything was blurry.  What was wrong with me?  Was I drugged by the hot springs?  Did I accidentally drink the contaminated water?

Ashley slowly got up, but she seemed well-rested and good to go.  I begrudgingly packed up.  We ate plain bagels and fruit.  Ashley never complained about the food and happily ate it.  She understood my hunger now.  She commented that she was hungry all day yesterday and that she couldn’t stop eating.

It started to pour.  Shit.  No.  I had sent Liz an email the prior nite asking if it was OK to come back to her place.  I didn’t want to give anymore money to this place.  I had dropped $60 in one day here.  That was enough for me.  Ashley offered to buy us food at the restaurant.  I didn’t want her giving them any money too.  I was ready to get back to Missoula.  40 miles stared us back in the face.  In the rain.

We cycled about 7 miles before pulling over to the side of the road, seemingly defeated by the weather.  Ashley wanted to hitchhike.  She wanted to hitchhike so bad, in fact, that she asked me if we could hitchhike with a semi-trailer going the opposite way.  I laughed and stuck out my thumb at the first pickup truck that passed us.  I doubted we’d get a ride having two bikes and all.

The truck hit their brakes and turned around.  “Shit!  Come on!” I yelled to Ashley.  We cycled down to meet them.  They were a cyclist couple from Bozeman, MT.  Mary and Kent were their names.  Ashley was pumped.  I was pumped.  They said they’d be able to drop us off in Missoula too, and they didn’t mind driving to Liz’s neighborhood.

Ashley had questioned hitchhiking prior to this trip, but an hour of cycling in the rain quickly changed her mind.  She realized that hitchhiking was not the fear-laden shit you see all the time in scary movies.  I hear this quite a lot, and people need to get out of their bubbles.  That mentality shuts you out from meeting great people.  Hitching leads to great stories too.  Yes, there are freakshows out there.  There are sharks in the water too, but you still see people swimming in the ocean.  Mary and Kent were great people, and we had great conversation with them.

the coolest rancher ever

We came back to Liz’s house to find her husband Warren there.  He’s runs their family ranch of 40,000 acres in Chinook, MT.  I immediately felt comfortable around him.  He had a really warm and fun personality, always laughing and joking.  Upon hearing our horror story, Liz and Warren offered to make us some late afternoon lunch.  We were showered with their hospitality upon arrival.

They told us they were going to see the movie Hangover later that night and wanted us to come along.  Absolutely.  I really enjoyed their company.  After the movie, they even bought us dinner at a local diner.  Man, I was really taken aback by the day’s turn of events.  We were showered in hospitality.

being happy little tourists

The next day, Ashley told me she still wanted to see more of the town.  Warren said we could use his truck, but Ashley opted to cycle around town.  Whoah.  Ashley was awesome.  I was super happy she was welcoming the experience with an open mind.

We hopped back on the bikes and made our way into town.

A couple happy and in love with their college shirts.  Annoying, matching shirt couple.

We spent much of the day walking around town.  Afterward, we grabbed some ice cream.

I was not looking forward to seeing her leave my company the next day.  I really had a good time.  Maybe some of the best times of the trip.  She held me in her arms.

It made me happier, so I gave her a ride on my back in the air.

Later that evening, we got back to the house and ate dinner with the whole crew:  Warren, Liz, Jordon, Genise, and Maura.  We stayed up late again talking about Michael Jackson, Jon and Kate, and library science.