I am in downtown Helena with my friend Esther in Montana's state capital. You wouldn't know it- the capital building is far from downtown and the most stately building within eyesight is the eerie "Power Building" that looms above us and the minarets in the distance. I'm stil not sure what's up with those-I have yet to meet a Muslim Montanan. The house we are staying at is more of a castle constructed of logs and dreams than a house. The forest dream castle goes by the name of "Camp Casey", since our lovely hosts have the last name of Casey. Casey is also the name of the cartographer for Adventure Cycling Association, at least he held that position last year, but I digress. Camp Casey i nestled in the foothills of the Beaverhead National Forest, and we'll be pedaling 5 miles uphill on a gravel road in a bit.
First, we want to enjoy our last night in downtown Helena which is a bizarre place with a ghost town feel despite it being the capital of the state. This is no Madison, Wisconsin, with its bustling hive of coffee shops, bars, and restaurants. It is Saturday evening and the main strip of downtown- the "walking mall"- has about as many statues as live humans. To be fair, there are a fair number of statues and the "bullwhacker" with his whip poised overhead mid-strike is pretty epic.
Esther pedals off to the Bozeman airport tomorrow, which marks the end of us riding through Montana together. Over the past week, we've struggled with bear hangs together (Western larches are beautiful trees, but with their impossibly high, delicate branches they make for terrible trees to hang food from), slept in teepees, crossed the Continental Divide at Flescher Pass, camped in cow pastures, and dipped our tired feed in icy cold rivers together. She brought a cross bike along for the ride, which proved to be unsuitable to handle the boulder hopping and gravel grinding the Great Divide entails. So we have been riding on the roads for the past few days, much to Esther's relief. And mine too- it made me nervous that she felt nervous on the trails. At the same time, riding my mountain bike on the highway has felt like wearing snow boots to high school prom. That is to say, entirely unsuitable for accomplishing the task at hand. Today I have been struggling with the decision of whether to accompany Esther to Bozeman, or to part ways here in Helena and get back on the Divide trail. Riding with her would entail clodding down the highway in my snow boots so to say and missing over 200 miles of the Great Divide Trail, but I would prolong my time with my good friend who keeps my spirits up and helps me with my Instagram and coffee addictions. Most importantly, she makes me laugh, plays word games on the road to make the miles fly by, and she keeps me in check when I start rattling off hypothetical horror stories about permanent nerve damage and knee replacement surgery. I will miss her. But I'm not sure that I can handle 100-something miles of road riding when only a section of it will be with her and I will be forgoing some of Montana's best scenery.
Today we stopped by a bike shop in Helena to have a mechanic reseal my front tire (I'm running tubeless tires) and check out my front brake (it's in great shape) and we found ourselves in the coolest bike shop ever. They had beer on tap, animal heads mounted everywhere you looked (vegetarian Berkeley Claire did not approve, but today's Claire has been tempered by a year of life in Chicago and isnt sure what to think of taxidermy in a bike shop), and they were grilling burgers on the sidewalk in front of the shop. The occasion for the burgers? The World Cup series for downhill racing. Awesome. So we got my front tire resealed, consumed libations and BBQ, and met some awesome bike folk. As Esther describes, "the most downhill bros I've ever seen in one place. Also- Rachel Atherton won". Pretty much. And Rachel Atherton is a BEAST, go check her out.
One person we met at the shop who did not fit the category of downhill bro was a Helena native named Mara, who is the first American person I have met cycling the Great Divide (except for fellow Blackburn Ranger Amanda, that is. She is currently in Wyoming, crossing the infamous Great Basin). So Mara is riding the Great Divide too! She is enthusiastic and is riding a carbon hardtail that weighs a bit less than my bike. I learned a thing or two from her gear set-up- she has a tube electrical taped to her seatpost which prevents her rear bag from slipping and rubbing on her rear wheel, which has been a consistent problem for me. We made loose plans to meet up on the trail, and hopefully I will see her out there. Company on such a remote trail is good.
Tonight is my last night in Helena, so I'm off to hit the town with Esther. Back on the trail tomorrow, and after I hit Butte in the next two days it will be a gorgeous stretch through the Centennial Valley with little in terms of services until I hit Wyoming and go through Yellowstone.
If I ever get to computer I'll set things right side up...these are the happy campers at "Camp Casey"