Full Circle and Thanks_Day 7

We arose, had our breakfast, chatted over coffee about what a good ride this had been and what a good crew of riders and staff we had been blessed with and how each of us was glad to have helped out the ‘Lung’ as we came to refer to the American Lung Association. There was a small unspoken sadness that our adventure was coming to an end, as usually happens on these events; especially when they are as enjoyable as ours has been with the closeness that we had established. There were only 15 of us, riders and crew in total. Our route for the day had us riding Montana Highway 2 straight back to Whitefish with a single detour to the Hungry Horse Reservoir. As we got underway we rode a few miles to the turn to the reservoir; spread out as usual. I had been to the reservoir before on a previous trip and had no interest in riding the steep hill to see it again so I continued straight on to Whitefish with a couple of stops thrown in along the way.

The speed demons, Lance and Ryan still caught up to and passed me before I got back to Whitefish. The route is along a busy local highway; no longer a scenic country ride. It was back to paying attention to the rumble strip, the gravel and glass on the shoulder and the sound of on coming trucks. I arrived at our destination in Whitefish, a local gym, checked in and then rode to the Glacier Cyclery where I dropped off my bike to be packed and shipped. The Glacier Cyclery is a great locally owned bike shop and I highly recommend them: knowledgeable, accommodating, good service and friendly. That task completed, I walked back to the Whitefish middle school and pickup my other two wheel machine and motored back to the gym. Lance, Ryan and I had just settled into watching TV in the locker room's small lounge when the gear truck arrived with our bags. Sharon found us and we had a small closing ceremony when everyone arrived at the gym, a few minutes later.

First Sharon and Nick thanked us all for our participation and service to the ‘Lung’; followed by presentation of glass Glacier National Park tumblers to everyone. Tony Sleva received a special award for his heroism and Lance and Ryan each got the “Lost Boys” award for their wayward journey after we left Waterton Lakes Park; smiles and laughs abounded. We finished with a ceremonial meal of Huckleberry pie and then we got a change of clothes and bath kits for our luggage and showered up and then repacked the truck and returned to the Whitefish Middle School where we did the final off load of truck.

I loaded my gear on to my moto and rode over to the Bulldog Saloon where I had lunch with the Williamson. The Bulldog Saloon is one part sports bar with multiple TVs showing various sporting events, one part museum with old photographs of area schools championship sports teams, and one part Old West collection of railroad lore and memorabilia. Oh yeah, they had a lot of girlie pictures in the men’s john, very NC-17. Burgers were the house specialty and we all ordered one and we shared a pitcher of ‘Moose Drool’ beer, a local favorite and not a bad amber brew to boot. Obviously a sophisticated establishment...cheers!
So there you have it: The good, the bad and the ulgy of The Big Ride Glacier, 2008. I hope you enjoyed being my travel companion as much I enjoyed sharing the the story.


I want to thank all 58 of my friends and family members who pledged their donations to the American Lung Association of Washington, in my name or who made personal donations to offset the expenses involved in participation. Big or small, your donations and gifts are helping us all to better heart and lung health. Thank you very much for your generosity and for all of the personal support that was offered to me throughout this endeavor.



With Deep Gratitude,


Jim Warner

PS: If you are interested in seeing more pictures please visit Tony Sleva's photo gallery site; he has some great photos and funny captions: http://picasaweb.google.com/tsleva/BigRideGlacier2008 .

Finding a Hero While Going To The Sun_Day 6

I was one of the first to awaken on this next to last day of the Big Ride Glacier. It was the coldest morning of the ride and icy frost was on the ground and on my gear bag left outside my tent overnight. I rose in the darkness with nary a faint glimmer of sunlight on the Eastern horizon and the moon only now setting over the mountains in the near distance. It was a breath taking beginning for what was to be a day of great beauty, good riding and high drama as a life was nearly lost and a rider injured.

The water for the coffee was on the boil before fist light and I took the unusual preparation of taking a morning shower before riding to ensure I would be limber and ready to ride at a brisk pace right from the start. Today we would ride the famous “Going-To-The-Sun-Road”.



















For those of you who have been to Glacier you know how magnificent the landscape is on this road and how steep it is in places. For those of you who have not, it is a road with views on par with the drive in to Yosemite Valley. The most impressive part of the road itself is the section called the “Garden Wall.” Imagine you wanted to drive out of Yosemite and the only way you could do it would be to blast a pathway diagonally across the face of El Capitan. The Garden Wall is not so high as El Cap but road travels across an open rock face for several miles and the overall size of the geographic feature is much larger than El Capitan. The Going-To-The-Sun-Road (GTTSR), named after one of the peaks close to Logan Pass, was the section that I had been looking forward to. It was the “Hollywood” part of our ride: A breath taking vista around every corner, a challenge worth preparing for and a genuine sense of reaching out and ‘touching creation’ the whole way.

Today would be a demanding day: We had to ride a thirteen mile approach to a 7 mile long, 6% grade to attain a 2,125’ elevation gain to summit Logan Pass. Followed quickly by a miles long descent down the steep, narrow and heavily trafficked Garden Wall section and then ride another15 miles, supposedly all before 11:00 AM. So an early rise was essential. The part that did not make sense was that time for departure was slated for 7 AM. No one in our group except Lance and Ryan had a hope for making that distance in the time allotted. The time constraint came from a Glacier NP rule that no bicycles were allowed on the GTTSR along McDonald Lake from 11AM to 4PM, as this was the prime time for RVs to travel along the narrow, winding road and the Park Service had learned that keeping bicycles off the road in that time slot avoided accidents.

After breakfast and a couple of cups of my extra strong French Roast coffee my engine was running and I was the second person out of the gate. It was clear, cold and crisp with the sun’s early morning light making everything brilliantly colored to the eye. I barely felt the cool as I rode across the St. Mary’s River on to the GTTSR.


The Rider's Eye Point of View










A few pictures for my album and a few hoots of excitement for good measure and I was on my way. We all quickly fell into our usual order, except for me. As I had expected by the end of the ride my fitness and hill climbing in particular had improved. My legs which had been sore and achy had now strengthened and I no longer was waddling from stiffness as I had been in the early part of the ride. (Back at Waterton Park I could have been mistaken for a giant penguin in bad light) Now I was riding in the front third of the pack as we rode along St. Mary Lake. Everyone was snapping pictures as the lake was sheet glass and the reflections were amazing.

St. Mary Lake (photo courtesy Google)
With our brisk pace our group quickly reached Rising Sun Campground and the road started to steepen some. One last overlook of the lake, a few more pictures and then I set about the business of trying to complete this assigned ride in the time allotted. At mile 13 we had a water stop and I was feeling good, riding well, keeping up with the middle of the group. It was here that the road took on the grade that it would keep for the rest of the way to Logan Pass, abut 6% and with the last 2-3 miles steeping further to about 8%. At this point I did fall back and rode the remainder of the ascent by myself for the most part. I passed by Jackson Glacier, Siyeh Bend with its Glacier melt water pouring off Siyeh Peak. Siyeh Bend was the last big Switch back before the final pull of two miles or so up to Logan Pass. Here is a link to view a map of the day's ride, start to finish.
http://home.nps.gov/applications/glac/roadstatus/roadstatus.cfm

The snow capped peaks and glaciers, some so pointed that the landscape suddenly reminded me of watching “When The Grinch Stole Christmas” as a kid with its exaggerated mountain peaks that were pointed enough to pop a balloon. At And then I was there…the visitor’s center to my left, people wandering all over and the sign: Logan Pass, Continental Divide, 6646 Feet - 2025 meters. I joined my ride colleagues in having my picture taken in front of the sign for prosperity.



Logan Pass Local, Right (Tony Sleva)



















After a quick check in with Sharon, who was parked at the visitor's center to let her know that I had summitted, I started my descent down the Garden Wall. The ride from Logan Pass to Lake McDonald was almost twenty one miles and the Garden Wall portion was easily half of it. The road was built as a WPA project during Depression. Completed in 1933, the Going-To-The-Sun-Road had just recently celebrated its 75 years. The road is narrow as the cars of the day were much smaller. The ‘guard rail’ is a two foot high stone barrier on the cliff side and the road has diagonal drains crossing it about every 500’. A close look at the pictures will detail that the Garden Wall is what is know as in German a Are'te or rock spine, caused when to paralellel glacier carve the rock on either side of a high ridge, leaving the knife like edge which can be seen at the peak on the Garden Walls Ridge line; WPA stone work, foreground, R.




Two Views of The Garden Wall (Tony Sleva, L; Google, R)



















As I started down, the cooler air of the valley combined with the wind chill very quickly made me cold so I stopped put on my wind breaker. Being as big as I am I very quickly accelerated to 25 mph and could have gone as fast as I wanted, perhaps as much as 40 mph. I was applying my breaks though as the road had a lot of traffic and people out of their cars taking pictures. I did my best to stay off the brakes as riding the brakes on a ‘road’ bicycle can result in heat being transferred to the inner tube and heating it to the point that it ruptures causing an immediate and potentially catastrophic flat tire resulting in a crash: fortunately that did not happen.



Looking Towards West Glacier and The Road Yet to be Ridden
(Photo R, Tony Sleva)


Our Que notes advised us of road construction and around mile 6 of the descent there it was. A complete road resurfacing and stone guardrail replacement was being done in some sections.



Narrow Road










The road was now unpaved and with a lot of large road base creating an uneven, coarse surface to ride on. We were stopped at a control point and traffic was being shuttled through by a pilot vehicle. By the time our turn came after about 10 minutes everyone from our ride had caught up and we went down as caravan. The road was so rough and we were moving so fast that I chose to stop at one point to let the motor vehicles go by me as I was feeling like I might lose traction and slight out. After the vehicles had passed I continue on and in about two miles I was back on the pavement.

Having traversed the Garden Wall and now down in the Lake McDonald region of the park we road in with myself bring up the rear a half mile back. It was now past 11 o’clock; we rode on and as I got to the Lake McDonald Rd., Jim Williamson was waiting at the turn. He advised me that the group had ridden ahead and come to the traffic sign advising th at bicyclist would be fined $300.00 for riding being on the road way for the next 7 miles between 11AM-4PM, and that everyone returned and had gone in to the Lake McDonald village.

I found most of the group in a small grassy park beneath some large trees. Lance, Ryan, Tony and Nick-the-Wrench, our Eastern contingent had gone and gotten some pizza for lunch and the rest of us were debating about lunch. A few of us went into the Lodge for lunch. The food and service were only OK. One of the interesting things that I had started to notice was that there were many foreign nationals working seasonally in the Park, especially from Eastern Bloc countries such as Serbia, Moldova and the Ukraine to name a few. (I learned soon thereafter this was common in many of the National Parks and to the Rocky Mountain and Northwestern states in particular.)

After lunch we returned back to our little park which was actually a small grassy island formed the center of the approach to the lodge. It was comfortable and most of us chose to hang out there for the remaining two and a half hours we had to kill before we could get moving again. We talk, some napped, bicyclist named Keith who had been taking the same path as our group since way back in Whitefish and with whom we had become friendly with showed up and he and Mike Williamson had a long discussion.


The Lake McDonad Lodge; we spent the afternoon on the grassy "park" located to the right side of the photograph. It is half again as large as you can see. (Google)

After about an hour Lance came riding up on his bike kind of fast and without stopping he road straight over the curb, banging his wheels rather hard and came right in to the park and hurriedly announced that a woman had fallen in to the river and that Tony had jumped in after her! Both had safely been recovered after a short and difficult passage through some rapids and they were pretty banged up and freezing. Lance was looking for Sharon to get Tony some dry clothes.

Lance found Sharon, grabbed some clothes for Tony and they drove up to Avalanche Creek with Jim Williamson coming along in case a bicycle needed to be ridden back to our location. Those of us who remained behind were of course concerned and somewhat nervously waited to learn more. The time was now 4 o’clock and we were free to ride on. Around 4:15 or so our beleaguered friends returned: I saw fom the distance that Tony was walking, but with obvious difficulty and discomfort. Several of our riders rushed up to him. Seeing that he was both OK and now overwhelmed I complied with Sharon’s request that the rest of us now continue on to today’s destination of West Glacier Campgrounds. So back on the bike and on onward to West Glacier.

I had learned in the minutes prior to my departure that a very sizable woman from Ohio had been attempting to walk down to the river’s edge, ostensibly to soak her feet Tony later said, and had slipped on the mossy rocks and had bounced in to the rapidly moving water. The following is a photo sequence of the river bank where the entire event occurred. The distance is less than 100 yards from entry to extraction.

The photo order is from right to left.


Extraction Point..................................................Rapid........................................................ Entry Point


As I rode the remaining miles to West Glacier, parallelling Lake McDonald, I did note that the road was fairly narrow and that bicycles on the road did cause some cars to hold back and wait for a straight section of road before passing. In fact, at one point a large pickup truck passed by and the passenger stuck his arm out the window and gave me a ‘thumbs down’ gesture; Welcome to Glacier National Park I thought! I learned later from other of our riders that other incidents, more aggressive in there demeanor had occurred as well. Clearly the locals did not like bicyclists on ‘their’ road. It was the only time it happened on the entire journey. Go figure.
Lake McDonald (Google)

I arrived in West Glacier Village, located just outside of the park and stopped for a breather. I saw Al, Lloyd and Susan’s bikes parked and I searched around for them and found them in a gift shop. They had decided to get our heroes a commemorative award honoring their actions. So we looked at what were mostly a bunch of the usual tourist knick-knacks’ and finally settled on the idea that we would buy them some Glacier NP Shot glasses and a bottle of Crown Royal, know to be a preferred beverage among some of our new hero’s. So we all pitched in and decided to present them these tokens to them at a spontaneous presentation at dinner that night.

Our Final Camp Site at West Glacier Campgrounds

We rode a couple more miles to the campground, set up camp and got showered up and of course continued to chat about the day’s ride and all of the excitement of the day. Tony was driven in to camp since while in the river his knees had struck several rocks as he hung on to ‘Brenda’ from Columbus and his knees were stiff and swollen. For Tony, the ride was over; he would ride the last day with Nick-the-Wrench in the mechanic’s car for the final stretch back to Whitefish, a drive of less than 30 miles and later he will see a doctor to determine if any lasting injury has occurred.

So at Dinner that night Al Knopik chimed on his water glass, gathering in our attention and paid honor to Tony in particular and to Ryan, Lance and Nick for their roles that they played in the rescue; it was a proud moment for all of us. Looking back, if the road had not been closed to bicyclist for the afternoon, Brenda may not have survived her ordeal; hopefully she appreciates her good fortune. So aside from fighting lung disease the American Lung Association of Washington can take credit for a life saved in the immediate moment, on a journey intended to save lives in the future.

Whodda thunk it?!

Big Hills to Climb_Day 5

Once again we arose early to pack and prepare for a day of riding. Today’s ride would include the greatest amount of climbing. Our starting elevation from Waterton Lakes Park on the valley floor was about 4300 feet. The ride guide stated we would ride up and over Chief Mountain Pass at 9080 feet; a net gain of almost 4800 feet…gulp. So with breakfast in our belly’s and our luggage in the truck we set off. Our procession very quickly organized itself into the usual order with Lance and Ryan immediately out in the lead and quickly lost from sight. I would not see them again for almost eight hours…more on that in a bit.

The ride out of Waterton Park

For me and many riders, the first ten miles or so are the hardest of the day. Tight muscles need to slowly loosen up; blood flow from your gut has to shift to your legs, back and arms. Your body temperature rises with the exertion and eventually the beads of sweat to rolling off all over. As I mentioned before this moment may seems undesirable but for me this is the point that I know I am ready to do the real work. So after reaching this point at about six miles, as it was a bit warmer this day, I was ready to climb the hills. Just after leaving the park I crossed the Waterton River; the view of the mountains and their reflection in the river demanded I stop and take a picture.

Picture Perfect

As I got going again I noticed that my back tire seemed a bit low on air and as our group was just beginning our first ascent I thought it wise to air up my tire as it would roll with less friction being fuller and harder. So for the first time on the ride I stopped to use my brand new personal hand pump, I pumped up my tire a few more pounds. The pump was a very tight fit going over the Presta style tire valve. A Presta valve is a skinnier style value than the common shrader value found on many bicycles and automobiles. It has a valve core that sticks up above the top of the valve stem. The core is opened and closed by turning a tiny roller that is similar to a champagne cork in its bottle…wide roller wheel on top that is rotated to open the valve/bottle, but skinner where it goes in to the valve/bottle. The value top is not much bigger around than a plastic straw you get in a cocktail and the rotating core is half again as small. I attempted to pull the pump off the valve, but the fit was so tight it would not budge. I pulled again and still to no avail. (A few dark and unfriendly words passed between myself and the pump at this point.) So I then gave a very forceful tug on the pump head and it pulled free from the valve…immediately followed by the high pitched sound of air rapidly flowing from the valve. In my determined effort to pull the pump off I had yanked the valve core out of its body and the tire went totally flat and the tube was ruined. (Several more choice dark words).

Well, this was my first flat out on the road on this ride and I set about to change the tube. I won’t bore you with the how to change a tire but it takes 10-15 minutes. So I set about my task in the warming morning sun. Not long thereafter, say 45 seconds or so, I was joined by twenty or thirty mosquitoes. I had no recourse against these blood thirsty arthropods so I swatted as needed and worked as fast as I could. The ride’s mechanic, Nick-the-Wrench showed up just as I finished mounting the wheel back on the bike and he made a couple of adjustments for me and I was back in business. Nick asked what caused the flat, as the road appeared free of hazards where I was. I admitted being the cause of my circumstances and gave-over the details; he smiled and drove on to check on the rest of the riders.




The Rising Path

So I was now 30 minutes behind the pack, welts rising all over me and a big hill to climb in front of me with only myself for company. The road steepened ( to what was later agree to be an 8% grade), I shifted in to granny low gear and I peddled. As I slowly rose up the side of the mountain the view changed with each passing turn. My focus became my breath, finding and keeping the best posture on the bike for this long haul. Turning the cranks over and over again became hypnotic and my mind wandered from

one subject to another: the chemistry class I have signed up for in the fall; did anyone bring anything for the Oneg while I was gone and what was happening with all the fires back in California, and so on. Inevitably, I always returned to the road underneath me, how far had I ascended to and how my body felt. At one point I became aware that my thighs were pumping blood through them at their maximum capacity and they felt much enlarged. My Lycra riding suit felt tight around them and I am guessing my thighs had increased their circumference by at least an inch. My breathing, fast and very deep at the beginning of the hill had moderated and was now a more measured rate and only moderately greater than their normal tidal volume;I was adjusting, my body able to compensate.

See...my thighs really did get bigger!

The ride to this particular hill’s summit took me a whole hour to attain. It was about an 8 mile climb and as I crested it, I spontaneously shouted “Yeah baby, yeah!!” The words seemed to come from some place in me other than my immediate consciousness; a deeper and more profound part of my being had spoken those words. I was not at all surprised for having climbed the hill, only pleased that I felt so good both mentally and physically for having done so. Having this kind of moment is really why I signed up for this ride. Raising money for a worthy cause has really been a bonus for me. Hauling myself up the side of steep mountain; showing myself again what I am capable of. I needed to disciplined myself to this task; it could have been any difficult task, but I needed a challenge to set both my mind and body to...that is why I came here. Thank you to all of you who supported my effort and for that moment.

Being in hill climbing mode and traveling at 8 mph sort of put me in a little trance, as I said. As I descended down the hill I quickly had to snap out of my slow motion awareness into 35 mph alertness. I went from being very warm

Grinding to the Top

and sweating profusely to getting a cool blast of wind chill with all the sweat now evaporating off of me. The sudden change in mental awareness coupled with the rapid cooling effect actually was a bit shocking to my system, so encomassing had my uphill meditations been only minutes before. The downhill lasted about 6 miles and

some 10 minutes. When I reach the bottom a bead of sweat fell into my eye; it burn to intensely that I had to stop and wipe my eye clean. I don’t know if the sudden change of awareness could cause a new chemical to enter my sweat glands but that was the only drop that burned all day. I rode on.

Nick-the-Wrench was waiting at a check point as I started up the next big hill on my way to the U.S. border and the Chief Mountain U.S. Customs station and offered to take some photos of me. In about thirty minutes, in the middle of this hill, I got to the border expecting to be the lone cyclist from our group, assumig the others to have already crossed the border. To my surprise almost everyone was there, just about to enter through the check point. Everyone was there except our fastest riders Lance and Ryan who usually maintained a 20-30 minute lead on the pack. The wait at the border was lasting 45 minutes to get in to the United States; the wait at the Canadian side was less than 5 minutes. We entered the Customs check point as a group, passports at the ready.

The International Border at Chief Mountain Customs Station

We were questioned by a custom officer as to our purposes in Canada and where were we born. We had to remove our sunglasses when questioned…he wanted to see if we blinked or if our pupils dialated when answering his questions. We were allowed to re-enter the country and after a short break in the customs parking lot to refill our water bottles and get a snack, we were on our way again with another 3500’ feet of climbing still in front of us to reach Chief Mountain Pass. Interestingly, the customs officer had told us there were only a couple of minor hills in front of us on our way to the pass. As we rode on the road was alternating between moderate climbs and descents. All the while I expected a massive uphill around the next bend in the road. By now I could see Chief Mountain itself. I feared that road was going to take a dramatic turn and go towards the base of the mountain in a final and terrible ascent. Chief Mountain .

I rode up a long curve and as I came out of the curve I looked up at the crest of the hill with Chief Mountain in the distance. And there alongside the road was a sign stating that Chief Mountain was 9080 feet high, not Chief Mountain Pass! So with a a great sigh of relief I peddled on a few more miles to a lookout point where our ride truck was parked on top of a knoll and as I rode up Sharon, the Ride Director, took my picture and told me that the rest of the day's ride was almost all downhill. We all were please to have finished the hard climbing for the day and the hardest of the entire ride, so we took an extended break and snacked, drank up some Gatorade and took group pictures with the majestic Chief Mountain in the background. We were all there except for Lance and Ryan, our speed demons.

Joy at the Summit with Chief Mountain in Sight

The Day's Final Summit (with friends)

At this point I learned why Lance and Ryan were not with us: they had missed a turn at the beginning of the day. Each morning we all are given ride directions with the day’s route called ‘Que Notes.’ After coming out of the park in the morning Lance and Ryan were doing their usual fast pace ride and had not notice that they missed a turn…the turn up the mountain. Instead, they rode East on less steep course, instead of South-East and rode to the town of Cardston in Alberta, Canada and then had to turn South and enter the U.S. at a different point of entry. Ironically, Lance had a GPS device with him but did not figure out the error for some twenty miles or better. In the end they had to ride an extra twenty-five miles more than the rest of us; some 75 miles altogether. Yet for all of that extra distance and effort they still were the first ones to our camp that afternoon in St. Mary by 20 minutes!

After our rest and photo op, the rest of us continued on and immediately began an intense 6-8 mile down hill run which took us to Montana Highway 89, the same road Lance and Ryan re-entered the U.S. on some 8 miles further North. Another 12 miles of rolling hills and we would be in camp; but not before I got one more flat tire. Fortunately after the last one, I filed open the orifice of the pump so it was not so tight and I did not rip out my valve core this time around. This made me both the one day winner for most flat tires and also the ride's over-all-winner for the same as I had found a tiny thread of wire in my rear tire the night we arrived at Waterton Lakes Park that had pierced the tube, flattening it when I pulled out. I finally rode in to camp some 54 miles from where I stated, drank a cold brew, pitched my tent, had a shower and then went off to a promised piece of pie with dinner.

Happiness at the Park Cafe

Dinner that night was at a local diner ,the Park Café, which is a favorite with both locals and tourist in the St. Mary’s region and it is especially noted for its menu of homemade pies. The Huckleberry pie is particularly good! It was a fine ending to a really satisfying day of cycling in one of the most beautiful regions I have ever been to.

Montana Sunrise, St. Mary

A Rest Day_Day 4

Rest Day At Waterton Lakes National Park_Day 4

(Sorry for the delay in the blog posting…the remaining 3 installments will follow on in each of the coming 3 days; thank you for your patience.)

As we rode into Waterton Lakes NP we rode past the Prince of Wales Hotel, a Victorian era style architecture chalet, located at the North end of Lower Waterton Lake. It one of hotels built by the railroads as destination locations for the wealthy of the day. We made our camp at the South end of town in the park’s campground. Waterton townsite is unique situation where in the past property was sold to private citizens and then the wisdom of that choice was seen as an error. So the buildings of these properties when sold can be transferred to a new owner but the ground reverts to the Canadian Government. The fact that private residences remain in the park is a source of debate until this day.

Arising in the morning we breakfasted together. I started my day by taking a short swim in Lower Waterton Lake. The lake’s temperature was about 49 degrees and I waded out just far enough to dive in; after which I quickly exited having added another body of water to my list of “Swam there, done that” dips around the world. (Last year I got the Mediterranean Sea, Dead Sea, Red Sea and the Jordan River in addition to all the world’s oceans.) No morning shower was required…I was WIDE awake.
Polar Bear Swim, Lower Waterton Lake, Al, Canada

The day looked to be gorgeous and individual plans varied whether to go hiking, take a boat tour of the lake or to just relax, read, do laundry or wander around town. To that end we were given money for meals by our ride staff. I sought out the launder mat, a good cup of coffee and an internet café and spent my morning sipping java, journaling this trip and folding clothes.

Waterton Lakes Park is much smaller than America’s Glacier National Park yet it also has a very dramatic landscape. The tallest peak in both parks, Mt. Cleveland (10,461), is located in Glacier NP just south of the international border, but is most easily accessed through Waterton NP.

Come to Waterton-Glacier park; it is worth the journey here if you ever get the chance. Here are a few pictures from the park and I will introduce all of my Big Ride colleagues to you.




Stay tuned for the last three installments… Jim

Tony Sleva, Philidelphia, PA (Right, below) Lance Loethen, Philidelphia, PA (Left)

Mike Kelly, Seattle, WA

Al Knopik, Seattle, WA















Susan Kloster, Portland, OR

Lloyd Warms, Seatlle, WA (M.O.T)

Mike & Gail Williamson, Seattle, WA

April Boles, Anchorage, AK (L)

Ryan Reed, Florida

Jim Williamson, North Carolina and Sharon Cowdery, Seattle, Wa,
Nick "The Wrench", Vail, CO








The deer have become tame and habituated to human feeeding.


Waterton Townsite

Waterton Lakes moon rise

The view from my tent: Morning Rainbow.


The our tour boat the : 'International' at the dock.
The View Looking South






The U.S.-Canada border: trees cut to the ground along the entire length of the forrested part of the border. Below, the board as seen from a far.

The approach to Customs at Lower Waterton Lake.