Deserved rewards?

I panicked last week when I did finally sat down and did the math.  I took the budgeted amount for this trip, doubled it and added a few hundred dollars, and the total approximated the actual cost of the trip.  Advanced financial analysis revealed the surprising fact that my lodging budget is based on the ratio of three nights camping to one night motel whereas in actuality I have opted for three nights motel for every one night camping.  Why is that?

I have noticed that I have a lengthy collection of stock reasons for choosing a motel over a campground and thereby eliminating the painful "do I or don't I" decision process:

  1. It looks like rain.
  2. It doesn't look like rain, but it's awfully hot.  I see an AC unit.
  3. It was a long and tiring ride today.
  4. Did you see that sign? They have wireless Internet!
  5. Look how late it is! I don't have time to set up camp.
  6. I'm on vacation.  (This one is the lamest of all, because I'm not.)

By the time I arrived in St Mary's, MT, on the east side of the park, I had forsworn the use of any of the above reasons forevermore.  On the other hand,  I did need to factor in that (a) I had just camped out for three nights running and (b) I had just finished cycling over the Continental Divide, for Christ's sake.  Does this not qualify as a "special circumstance"?  So I called ahead to the motel in Babb, MT, which was listed on the back of my Adventure Cycling map.  The $70 they wanted for a room would blow the budget [refer back to reasons (a) and (b) above].  Moreover, if it cost $70, it must really be nice.  Hot tub?  Jacuzzi? 

My heart sunk when I arrived in Babb.  Since there are only four buildings, it was difficult to be sure that I was in downtown Babb or in the suburbs.  But there was the motel I had called, and there were no other choices.  For my $70, I got: no air conditioning, no phone, and (effectively) no TV.  Hot tub?  Jacuzzi?  Don't make me laugh.  I did get 1950s period furnishing, though, and nowadays you can only find that in chic antique shops specializing in Moderne.

My set of maps did not quote the population of Babb, MT.  When I asked the next morning, I learned that Babb has a population of 80.  That surprised me, because I hadn't seen enough buildings to house 80 people. There is a motel, a pizza parlor, and a cafe.  I'm told there is a post office, but I never saw it.  I believe the major source of income in Babb, MT, comes from unsuspecting tourists leaving Glacier National Park who call ahead to reserve a room. Once you're there, you're stuck.

 

North Central Montana

... is a lot different from western Montana.  Except for the little towns (where, I suppose, they are planted), you rarely see a tree.  In fact, you hardly see anything except the road, the railway, telephone lines, and lots of wheat growing.  Whoever wrote the lyrics about spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain's majesty must have been from eastern Montana, looking back towards the Rockies to the west.  Of course, the mountains don't look purple to me, but I have a problem with reds and greens.  (Too bad --- I think purple mountains would really look cool.)

The people are so friendly that you would think they were Italian.  People start up a conversation at the drop of a (cowboy) hat.  In Chester, MT, I ate dinner at the Grand Bar and Chic N Coop [I'm not kidding], still dressed in my fashionable cycling attire (so I would fit in).  After paying the bill, I walked passed the bar to the back entrance.  One of the locals gave me a "high five", asked me where I was going, and invited me for a drink.  Admittedly he may have had several himself already, but that's still an incredibly friendly gesture, not to mention generous.  I am such an idiot, of course, that I passed up the chance to learn something about Chester, Montana, and the people who live there, because I was worried about it starting to rain before I got my tent up and my gear stashed away.  So typical and so single-minded of me.  Can old dogs learn new tricks? I hope so.

The good people of Chester (the taxpayers, in this case) have a beautiful city park where you can camp for free.  There is lots of grass, a few trees, and picnic tables under shade pavilions.  Normally, there is even a bathroom with hot water and showers.  Unfortunately, it had been torn down and a new one is to be built this summer.  Before I had dinner even, I had gone to a local motel to ask if I could shower and wash my clothes.  We struck a deal for five bucks and I came out a new man wearing a fresh set of cycling clothes.

 

Wind and the monotony of fields of grain

The terrain here is very gently undulating.  I never used my highest gear, and I never used my lowest.  In my cycling career, I have come up against winds that slowed me to a crawl a few times that are still fresh in my failing memory.  But this past Wednesday, I experienced the boost that a tailwind can give you.  In only an hour and a half, I covered the last 36 miles (58 km) into Cut Bank, Montana.  The great thing about a tailwind, as compared to a downhill, is that you actually pedal a little, giving you the impression that YOU are the driving force behind speeds of 25 mph.  While it really doesn't do much for your leg muscles, it is particularly good for the ego.

Unfortunately, winds are unpredictable.  The next morning I had tailwinds for for a few hours, and headwinds most of the afternoon.  Yesterday I had no wind at all, although it rained gently all morning.  Both of the last two days were in the 65-70 mile range (about 105 km), with the temperatures in the high 80s (30 C). As long as you keep moving, the mid 80s don't seem that bad.  It's the mid 90s that are really tough.

I reached a major milestone today --- literally.  I watched the cyclometer record the first 1,000 miles (1610 km) mark, using four digits for the first time.   There was no champagne and no cheering crowds.  But you know what was even more fitting?  I decided it is actually a moral imperative to observe a once-in-a-lifetime occasion such as this at an air-conditioned motel with WiFi, a pool, a microwave, color TV, and free breakfast.

More photos, hopefully for your visual pleasure.  (If you're reading this at the Fed, it's your lunch hour, right?  I don't want to hear about it being "all my fault" when I get back!)