The Ups and Downs of the Great Divide

What a ride! Now I know what mountain bike riding is all about. Now I know why people have mountain bikes and a bike-packing set up. Now I know what 200,000ft of elevation feels like from riding up anywhere from say 500ft to 6,000ft on a daily basis over dirt roads. Now I know that going down hill in mountain terrain is often as slow and arduous as going uphill. Despite this knowledge, am I glad I did it? Absolutely! Do I want to do it again? Hard no (But YOU should!!)!

Growth Opportunity

A wise person once told me that if there is an opportunity to do something that feels terrifying you’re probably not ready for it. If there is an opportunity to do something that feels scary, but exciting at the same time, then it’s a “growth opportunity.” And, finally, if there is an opportunity to do something that feels easy and fun, do it! This is just pure joy.

When Dana decided that he’d had his fair share of “pure joy,” then I had to decide what I was going to do. Although I wavered back and forth between continuing on and going home, ultimately, my gut told me that this was a growth opportunity. I was terrified and excited at the same time. I told myself (ok, look here self) try it for 3 days. If I hated it, I could stop. If I liked/loved it, I would continue on for as long as I was feeling it. Who knew I would feel it until the end?!

To drive this point home, when I started with Dana, his job (unbeknownst to him) was the navigator and the one with some common sense. I usually jump in with both feet and realize in mid-air that there are big boulders on the bottom, or maybe only an inch of water, and then, in turn, say, “Oh shit!” But, of course it’s too late. This new mission became a “growth opportunity” after Dana left because I was obviously now completely responsible. If something went sideways – as it does- it’s on me. As a person who usually travels alone, I get that, but being in the preverbal “middle of nowhere” adds another dimension to that fear. Long story short, most days felt like a scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (yes, dating myself). That boulder was right behind me the entire way, but never completely crushed me. As a result, I gained a new level of confidence that you can achieve only from being afraid but doing it anyhow.

Some of the more colorful places I stayed…

Obstacles

Just like a good Indian Jones movie, or any “Hero’s Journey” (say, The Wizard of Oz) there is a cross-roads (Dana leaving) and obstacles to deal with. Apart from the daily obstacles of heat, monsoons, grizzlies, poisonous snakes and spiders, my phone navigational system dying, and wildfire smoke, there were a few other doozies thrown onto my path.

After the second week on the route, there were rumors of a woman getting mauled (and killed) in her tent at a campsite in the small hamlet of Ovando, Montana along the banks of the the Blackfoot River. Two days later, Dana and I found ourselves staying at the Ovando hotel and hearing the stories firsthand. This region is home to 1,000 grizzlies. The biggest population of grizzlies during our entire ride. After riding in the wilderness where you might expect a bear sighting to occur, you definitely get a false sense of security when you are in a protective little town surrounded by storefronts and people coming and going. If it weren’t for our two overnight stops along the way to visit friends in Whitefish and Columbia Falls, we would have been in that campsite that night. I received a text the day after the mauling from two people from Bremerton who started the ride the same day we started. They witnessed this horrific event and decided to pack up and return home the next day. Another couple from Texas, who also started the same day as us, were also there. They went home the next day as well. We are thankful for our two stops, but heart broken about the course of events that unfolded in Ovando that fateful Tuesday morning on July 6th.

On a much less horrific scale but no less dramatic for me personally, I suddenly started getting sharp tooth pain in my back left molar one evening after dinner. I was in a remote area and choose to ignore it. My usual go-to solution for everything is to go to bed and hope its better in the morning. This seldom works, but it’s the easiest first step. So, the next day it got worse and by the third day it was pretty bad. The irony is that I went to the dentist with my trusty dental insurance a month before I left precisely so this would not happen. Of course my dental insurance only covers Washington, Oregon and Idaho. On the fourth day, I arrived in Breckinridge, Co. It was mid-day and I thought I would just eat something delicious and continue on. I sat down to eat and was so fatigued that I could barely get up (probably from the infection running through my body). So, I stayed the night and called a dentist the first thing in the morning. Luckily, they got me in an hour later. My cocky little self thought they would just give me an antibiotic and send me on my merry way. No such luck. Before I knew it, I was getting my tooth yanked out of my head. The dentist said it was so infected that in another day or so it would have exploded and death would have been a real possibility if I were on the trail. I often imagined the real possibility of a wild animal taking me down, but not my own docile tooth.

Some of the lovely people I met along the way…

Colorado vs New Mexico

I love Colorado. It was sunny but not too hot. The smoke had mostly lifted by the end of my first week. Most days I passed a lovely small town, a flowing river, friendly people and an inviting campground or the house of a Warmshower’s host. In Colorado, I rode over the two highest passes on the continental divide bicycle route – Boreas Pass at a cool 11,482ft. and Indiana Pass with a long steady climb of 11,910ft. Towards the end, afternoon showers were getting to be a thing. Fortunately, I was mostly able to outrun them or at least have my tent up before they unabashedly dumped on me.

I instantly fell in love with New Mexico despite my initial fear. I was afraid of the monsoons that turn the earth to red clay and the afternoon lightening that strikes down all around you as you ride over high-altitude terrain. New Mexico felt grittier than Colorado with an eff-you attitude. I like that. I respect that. It’s as if the entire state- apart from Santa Fe, and perhaps Taos, is saying, “Get the hell out of here if you don’t like it. We don’t need you.” And, yet, it feels welcoming if you can just hang in there long enough. Apparently, the northern swath of New Mexico has one of the highest crime rates in the US. That would have been nice to know when I decided to stay in Cañon Plaza, a place that apparently NO ONE ever stays in and with good reason. I wondered why there where so many burned out homes, and why the nice man who let me stay in his deceased mother’s house told me to make sure the barbed wire fence was closed and locked behind me so as not to let out the “horse” that I never saw. It felt like a scene from Braking Bad.

Southern New Mexico had an entirely different vibe. The Gila National Forest is stunning. It’s nice to finally see green again after the parched north. Then, as you head further south towards the border, suddenly the terrain is flat for the first time and you can ride forever in a kaleidoscope of blue and earth tones that make you feel like you’re on magic mushrooms. You are advised not to ride through the Chihuahua desert at night (which I was never planning to do in the first place) because of all the illegal activity that goes on after dark. Boarder patrol trucks and vans outnumber all other cars on the roads and freshly squashed snakes are a frequent sight that constantly reminded me to pay attention. Nevertheless, I loved these last few days after Silver City when I knew the climbing was over and the desert would stretch on endlessly in every direction. I got my first and only flat tire after I finished the ride. I decided to ride the final 82 miles into El Paso where I caught my flight home. Wouldn’t you know it?! I ran over one of those nasty goat-head thorns that I’d heard of from Salida, Co on down to the border. I’m proud of myself for successfully fixing the tire like a mature grown-up (vs the full-on hissy fit that I wanted to have). I celebrated my victory by hitching a ride into El Paso, but that’s another story!

Some of the terrain I rode over…

Dirt vs Pavement

There are clearly two camps of thought here. We have our mountain bike riders and our bike tour folks. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m leaning more towards the bike touring camp. What can I say? It turns out I like pavement. I like very rural roads and frontage streets. I like roads where a car passes you every hour, but I like roads. The reason I like roads is because I like the human interaction. I like to stop and talk to people. I like to learn about other ways of life. I like to get a cold drink when I want. I like to just let my mind wander and not have to be laser focused on the trail ahead of me. I’m a traveler that uses a bike as a mode of transportation. That said, I mostly had fun on this ride. Sometimes, I had a blast. I never wanted to quit, although I often wanted a “0 milage day.” Riding the Great Continental Divide Mountain Bike Route felt a little like a beast that I had to tame. In the end, this was one of the most amazing and beautiful experiences of my life. I’m very grateful for the experience, and feel privileged to have had the time and physical strength to do it. I encourage everyone to who has any interest to give it a go.

Other Riders

Just a quick note on finding bike partners to ride with. It’s not as easy as it would seem. After Dana left, I only rode with one other person for about two and a half days. His deadline was before mine, so he was riding long and hard. I kept up with him, but it wasn’t much fun and there was no point in it for me, so I said, Adios (Perhaps, not unlike Dana?). I met others along the way who were either way slower than me or doing shorter or longer distances. Some got up early and hit the road without coffee or breakfast, some left at noon. When you start feeling comfortable by yourself, you find that you don’t really want to compromise. Before I met Dana, I didn’t even know what questions to ask a potential riding partner (I just got lucky with Dana!). Now I do!

Final Count

In the end, I rode 2,335 miles, 150,000ft of elevation, crossed the continental divide probably 25 times (there are 30 crosses total but that includes Canada) 1 flat tire, 1 pulled tooth, 0 crashes. Those numbers are exciting and fun, but, this ride, and all my rides, are never about these tangible hard numbers. These long rides are about being out in nature and riding in trees, along rivers, in the mountains, and on long stretches of desert or valley where the land just goes on and on. These are the times where the revolution of my tires over earth sends me into a meditative state where my mind is still and my intuition is sharpened. It is in this space of quiet solitude where my heart is open to possibility and creativity is unlimited.

My adventures are equally about that person who stopped to give me a cold drink, the family who invited me into their home, the dad who pulled over to show his children there are options in life that they didn’t know existed. It is about breaking down barriers of fear that distance and isolate us. It’s about building connection between those who may live differently than us and might also look different. When I can shake a hand, give a hug, or simply look directly in the eyes of a complete stranger who wants to help, it doesn’t matter what their political beliefs are or their cultural background. What matters is that trust is being built.

Fundraiser

Thank you to everyone who donated to Los Buenos Vecinos. The Guatemalan grassroots organization that is building tippy taps for schools and home so that children can get back to school faster. With generous contributions, LBV has been able to expand their capacity to buy materials and build over a 1,500 tippy taps to date.

Unfortunately, I didn’t reach my one dollar for each mile ($2,335) goal. I found out that running a fundraiser while riding each day often in areas without cell service requires a team. Due to a lot of moving parts, I didn’t have time to get that team together. Nevertheless, If you’d still like to donate, or simply learn more about the gargantuan work that LBV is doing then I invite you to go to: www.losbuenosvecinos.org and check them out.

God bless you if you have made it to the end of this blog post! Thank you for reading this long update and thank you for supporting me in spirit along this most long and bumpy road. I always LOVE getting feedback and comments…wink, wink!

Until we meet again…

Denise