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