Somehow in Dayton, with new friends

I arrived in Dayton this evening with two new friends, and a blurred memory of the past few days.

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Kamiah is where I left route 12 for a few days. It is where I was awaken at 3am from the sprinklers in a park I slept in, and it is where I decided that I don’t like how people feel they can ask you anything when your on a bicycle.

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In this wonderful little diner in “downtown Kamiah”, I was eating a proper spinach and fetta omelet when a man and his wife decided to impose upon my privacy. They approached from the south, and began to fire all manner of private questions about my life, finances, my sore ass, etc.
This is not the first time this has happened to me on this trip. So, to eliminate further questioning, I fired questions back. Needless to say the barrage was soon over, and the darling old couple was on their merry way. When you carry what some people think is your life on your bike, in public, I think some people feel your life is public domain, and is at their disposal.
Just an observation…

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After leaving Lewiston, I was suddenly and miraculously in Clarkston WA. Bam! Just like that. Soon after climbing out of Clarkston I met Gabby and Zoey. Two Rad girls that can pedal for days. We decided to roll together for a few, and see where the wind takes us.

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We are now in Dayton enjoying the warm hospitality of Genie, our motherly warmshowers host. Love this lady.

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Here’s her 300lbs butcher block. RAD!

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Two days from Missoula, two days unreachable.

I left Missoula in the afternoon, with the wind at my back and the sun on my cheeks.

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Before I knew it I was over Lolo pass and in Idaho.

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I rode and I swam for two days. With no place to be, I soon found my place on the bike. In the moment is where it is, and where I hope to stay for the rest of my time spent on a bicycle.

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Lochsa Ranger station was a welcome relief from the heat, and they had Jolly Ranchers.

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I came across a weary traveler named Spencer. Spencer needed water and a place to rest, I told him about the ranger station, and he told me of a fine camping spot down the way.

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We parted ways soon after.

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Mmmm….

In The Attic

After the jazz show last night Brent said I should sleep in the attic. This is what i awoke to…

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Such a hard life. Once again, it will be hard to peel myself away from the wonderful clutches of Missoula, and the unending hospitality of Bruce, Brent, and the Jazz Mansion. Not to mention Greg Siple and his ol time wisdom, Bob at free cycles, and all the fun little hippies down on Broadway. Ill miss you Missoula, but the road beckons.

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Last nite in town.

I awoke with the sun.

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Spent the day in its shine reading my new favorite book “Into the Remote Places” (thanks Nick), and absorbing the  plethora of knowledge Greg felt like bestowing upon me. Greg is the man over at ACA(Adventure Cycling Association).
Here’s a picture of Greg dorking it up with Nick about the good ol days.

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Now I sit outside my in the early evening cool, tuning my bike/ repacking my gear, and listening to live jazz courtesy of my Rad warmshowers hosts. Life couldn’t be better right now.

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Oh…. and hanging with a Rad cat.

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Bozeman, Butte, and a change in direction.

So we found ourselves leaving Bozeman well into the early afternoon. As all things that are worth doing right, we headed west sticking to route2 like a fly to a flathead cherry seed.

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After a quick dip we were at it again…

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We camped just west of the Lewis and Clark caverns on a quiet little river, and the night sang me to sleep… or was it the crickets?

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The morning reeked of miles spent on the bicycle, so we took to it once more.

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To Butte for a final supply pick up. So up and over Pipestone Pass and it’s 6,453’ of sheer delight, and a decent to match. Right into Butte… (no pictures of that)…

Then something happened. I decided I wanted to keep heading west, and that’s just what I intend to do. All the way to the coast.

Nick and I parted ways yesterday morning. Him to the hills, and I to the coast. Both enjoying the ride (and swimming, ice cream, and beer).

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Time well spent: Montana

Things started off well once we finally left Missoula. However, after a fifty plus mile first day and a good second morning to Ovando, my stomach began to betray me in ways I refuse to describe in print. I’m not sure where everything went bad inside me, but the bottom line is that rest, water, and a little over the counter meds were required to get me back on the saddle.

This is kind of a half-ass post, and I apologize for the mass confusion of pictures. I was to under the weather to take proper pictures, and I promise to do better. For now, here is something to look at. Cheers!

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Nick jumping in the river

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Camping by the river

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Ovando

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Off the pavement, and into the dirt

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About here is where things went bad for me. But somehow we are now in Bozeman. Thanks to the yellow truck stranger, and Doug.

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Swimming in Bozeman, with new friends.

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You let us stay, we cook. Thanks Doug and Alex. You guys are the best!

Montana

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Just flew in to Montana today, and so far its my kind of town. Spent the day finishing up a few thing on my bike at the local super awesome community bike shop, free cycles. But ended up spending the majority of the day helping this local community garden project move to a new location( more on that later). Finished off the day with some swimming and beers down by the river. Now we( Nick and I ) are heading over to our warm showers host and get some well deserved rest.

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