Riding the Great Divide. Day 1
Riding the Great Divide. Day 1. Leaving Whitefish.
We flew from Portland to the Glacier National Park Airport at Kalispell and got a cab to Whitefish. Jamie had arranged to leave the bike boxes at a cyclery there. They also agreed to keep our bags.
At the cyclery he had an Old Man Mountain rack fitted on my bike. All he had me carrying were the Big Agnes tent and my sleeping bag and mat, all strapped on in a compression sack.
That, and the Camelbak Mule pack, was my load.
My gear was one pair of mountain bike shorts, a pair of lightweight shorts, two jerseys, two socks, two padded undershorts and mountain bike shoes. For evenings, lightweight slacks, a teeshirt and a lightweight fleece all from Craghoppers and some canvas shoes.
We stayed the first night at a motel. Motels work best: you can stow the bikes in the room, said Jamie.
Jamie carried two panniers with food, water and tools and his clothing, and a bar bag, far more than me.
He showed me his bike. It was a steel touring bike made by Co-Motion, a company based in Oregon. Its unique feature was the coupler system that means it could be disassembled and carried with passenger luggage.
We set off at 8:30 after coffee and doughnuts in the breakfast bar.
Jamie said we should start earlier on other days while it was still cool, for the temperature would rise steadily throughout the day to lunchtime, and would peak in the mid 80’s in the late afternoon.
I decided all I would read on this trip was the Yahoo News Digest on my iPhone, when I could get it.
Today the leaders of many countries met in Liege in Europe to mark the start of hostilities in the 1914 war.
We angled south east along straight north-south roads around the huge square fields.
I pictured two points moving slowly around identical green-brown squares, each with a slightly different mark from tractor trails.
Our first climb was a long, shallow climb on a gravel road through pine trees. Sometimes Jamie would ride alongside me.
“You’re looking pretty good,” he said, standing up out of the saddle and scanning me. “You trained well.”
After we stopped for lunch Jamie pushed the bikes into a brushy opening and cable-locked them together and pocketed his Garmin and we went looking for huckleberries on the forest floor. We found some low bushes with purple fruits which I said were similar to whortleberries or bilberries, which grow in the hills I roamed as a child.
In the evening I told him how I had been reading up about the history of the bike and how the technology had stopped and started through a mesh of coincidence and enthusiasm and inspiration and ambition and greed.
“ It’s a bit like our bodies that contain parts from thousands of species,” Jamie said.
We stopped at Bigfork and found the campground.
Then we walked over the harbour bridge and up the street called Electric Avenue, checking out what was there.
Jamie has a couple of high-tech bicycle security devices: a D-lock that alerts his iPhone if it’s tampered with and a hidden tracker that provides GPS co-ordinates of the bike’s position if it’s stolen.
It was Sunday evening. We found a good restaurant and also chose a cafe for our breakfast in the morning.
I had never shared a tent with Jamie before. I slept well but, as ever, with periods of wakefulness. Jamie groaned a few times in the night. I wondered what he was dreaming about.
At dinner Jamie said: “Think how many of our customary behaviours are just down to a single biological trait. Humans sleep after dark for six to eight hours. What if we slept in the day? Or dozed?”
I love Jamie. He’s so different.
But I was still curious:Why are we here? What prompted this project?
Riding the Great Divide. Day 1 was originally published on The Journal of an Aging Hominid