Just Like That

The last few days have been rather uneventful ones, post-Ferdinand. I spent that morning replacing my torn tire and blown-out tube from the skid, and sewing up my saddle bag and jacket, and just generally regaining my composure. By the time I was all back together again, I had lost much of the day, and I was already running behind schedule in my goal of making it to Glacier before my sister's upcoming birthday. I decided to hitch a ride to make up for lost time, and to dull the growing monotony of the seemingly endless mountains and valleys. I was carried down the highway by a lovely recently-retired couple from Vancouver Island, who fed me homemade cookies, and laded me with a bag full of produce and salmon sandwiches before parting ways again.

One of many, many passes.

My last night on the road had me climbing into the Rockies, ever closer to the continental divide, the mountainous seam that separates and distinguishes the Pacific and Atlantic watersheds. Wind brewed threateningly, and the smell of rain was on the air. I found a bucolic, abandoned old barn to spend the night in, tucking myself in to a perfect bed of hay, and watched as the clouds continued moving on, revealing the blazing night stars behind them. I slept peacefully and soundly, warm and content, and even more so when I awoke at 5am, liminally aware of the downpour that had belatedly begun outside, accentuating my dry and serene state.

As the downpour continued on through the morning, I met my sister on the road, and got a ride across the border and down to her temporary home of Saint Mary, just outside the park itself. By this time, the rain had turned into a heavy snowstorm, and, antithetical as it may be to the notion of bike travel, I was endlessly grateful for the comfort and amenities that the car offered. I settled in to the pie that has been promised me all summer long, a fresh salad larger than my cranial capacity (insert self-deprecating remark here), and my first shower in almost two weeks of sweat, dirt and sunscreen. It's good to be here, and despite the forecast of continuing rain, I am perfectly content to relax in a dry place for the next few days in good company, and enjoy the simple pleasures.

I may've earned myself some downtime, but, to be sure, this trip is far from over. Stay tuned...