West. Day 34.

patti brehler
May 9, 2021
4 min read

July 12, 2016

Lincoln to Ovando, Montana

My original Facebook post:

POSTCARD FROM THE ROAD 7/12/16

I am but a sparkle of the Blackfoot River, floating on the man-made winding through the Helena National Forest on the Pacific side of the Continental Divide.

My eyes rise. A steep green slope rears into blueness, where pine trees pierce puffy white clouds. I have to wrench my eyes away - the sight instantly makes me dizzy.

Each curve is a small pass up, then descends; with each pass, the mountain walls widen.

A shadow swoops over me and I can't keep myself from lifting my eyes again. A raptor soars above the opening valley. At the peak of a ridge, two more stand guard on fence posts. A shrill screech followed by chilling chatter and the two take flight.

A transcendental ride to Ovando, MT.

A steep, dirt slope rises to a deep blue sky with a wisp of a white cloud. At the top of the ridge are pine trees. — Dizzying slope.

A loaded recumbent bicycle leans against a guardrail high above a wide river, pine trees slope away on each side of the river. — The transcendental Blackfoot River.

Riding west of the Continental Divide with the wind in my face yet again, I was not sorry to leave the plains behind. Maybe my bandana "wind charm" under my helmet made the fight tolerable. Or maybe I was getting stronger.

The road meandered with the course of the Blackfoot River. At every turn the vista opened wider. The Garnett Mountain range dominated the horizon. Was that snow up there? Yep.

Thinking about the ride home. Yes, I decided. Maybe a different route east through Montana? If I took up the Newell's offer to stay with them in Helena, I would turn south off SR 200 at SR 141.

I paused to view SR 141 disappear between the hills. Two figures walked in the river below. Were they fly fishermen? The young man and woman, wearing hip waders and green shirts, were Federal Forest employees.

"We're gathering samples of the river bottom to gauge the amount of fish spawn," the woman said.

Ovando. I made reservations to stay in a hoosegow with Kathy, owner of the Blackfoot Angler, "The Best Little Fly Shop on the Blackfoot River." More than a fly shop, the tiny store was jam-packed with camping gear, emergency supplies for bicyclists, locally made gifts, and tourist souvenirs. Not only was Ovando on the ACA's Lewis & Clark Trail, it was a stop on the ACA Great Divide Mountain Bike Route, an off-road route that crisscrossed the Continental Divide from Banff, Canada to the Mexican border in New Mexico.

Right next door to the Angler was the Stray Bullet Café. A mountain biker sat at a tall table on the wood porch in front.

A man wearing dark glasses and a lycra bicycling jersey sits at a table outside a cafe. His loaded fat-tire bike leans against the building behind him. — Lunch with Terry.

"Hey there, I'm Terry," the lean, lycra-clad man said. "Why don't you join me?"

I parked my bike against a hitching post at the edge of the porch. On the road for ten days, Terry said he's been averaging a whopping 60 miles per day on the Great Divide. I was duly impressed.

"I got to visit my daughter in Glacier Park," he said. "She's been working with a musher for room and board, staying in a tepee." Sounded like a great job to me, but he said she was tired of it. "The mountains have been colder and rainier than usual," he said.

While I looked forward to an afternoon of relaxation in Ovando, Terry was eager to get back to the trail. I toured the Brand Bar Museum and washed my clothes at the Ovando Inn and Blackfoot Commercial Property. No drier meant I dried them on a makeshift clothesline outside the hoosegow. Bungie cords were good for all sorts of things.

A bicycle is next to an old wood cabin with the sign "hoosegow" on it. Clothes are strung on bungie cords between the building and the bicycle. — Drying clothes at the hoosegow.

The Brand Bar Museum, where I bought some handpainted cards of the area.

A street sign says, "Pine St." with a cutout of a cowboy on a horse leading a loaded donkey. Mountains are in the background. — Ovando street sign.

A long shot of three business fronts adjoined across a street, with trees behind it and rocks in the foreground. — Ovando's "trading post."

The woman at the Inn where I washed my clothes told me there was a town water pump, but I couldn't find it. I met two women walking about and asked them if they knew where it was.

"No," one said. "We're just visiting." She was from California and the other was from South Carolina. They met here for a "bucket list" trip to Glacier National Park.

"Tomorrow we're taking a horse ride in Bob Marshall," the one from South Carolina said. Ovando was the southern entry to the Bob Marshall Wilderness.

Later, the woman from California knocked on the hoosegow door. "I saw your light on." The hoosegow had a battery-operated lantern. She handed me a pitcher of water. "I wasn't sure if you found the pump and thought you might need this."

Grateful, I listened to her story about a man she once knew, who is now deceased. "He wanted to take a bike trip with some guys, but he also wanted to learn to play the cello. So he built a trailer and brought it with him," she said. "He wasn't very good, but it was neat to hear him play at night in camp."

Lots of road angels out there, folks.

From my B'76 journal:

7/12/76

Well – here we are in the Laundromat again – got to town (Sterling) early today – 1:30. Great ride!

The land is changing so much – gone are the wheat fields – it’s more “treeish” and the road is starting to go up and down hills.

Went through a wildlife refuge today.

We’re going to Newton tomorrow and a rest day!!!!!

Much needed.