Sept. 11th – 28th – Montana to Southeastern Idaho

Well, it happened again. We peddled, the bikes moved, the landscape and state changed, and another 360 miles rolled on by. After our week long break in Missoula, while Ance was working in Juneau, we jumped off the Adventure Cycling Association’s TransAmerica route and began jetting south. We are now in Pocatello, Idaho for a day break and greasy food. The expanse of the world, and this country, continue to amaze us. Ance and I agreed, we were totally ignorant of what Idaho had to offer. Far from just a flat plane of potatoes, it is crammed full of epic views, mountains and people – you should come see.

In about another week we’ll be in Salt Lake City, Utah, then its a south westerly beeline to Cedar City, UT where we join back up with the Adventure Cycling Association’s maps for the Grand Canyon Connector – then we finally turn east toward Florida. But not today. For those interested in the nitty-gritty details the route page has been updated with all the stops over the past two weeks.

Best wishes from the LatvianAlaskan Family

 – Ophelia, Augustine, Ance, and Forest

Sept. 9th – 15th – Missoula back to Lolo

Ance had to get up at an obscene hour to jump on her flight to Juneau on the 9th. I was then left for 7 days with two female juvenile savages in a foreign city. We spent our days sleeping in, watching cartoons, riding our bikes to the park, eating junk food and falling asleep during evening Disney films. While Missoula streets are heavy with endless roars of traffic, the downtown area, skirting the banks of the Clark Fork River, is beautiful, scenic, and full of good food and fun hustle and bustle.

After surviving 7 days, Ance returned to Missoula on the 15th. We checked out of the KOA Missoula at 11 AM and left Ance’s bike at the nearby REI, while we road downtown for some playground gallivanting and carousel riding. Ance rolled in with her beaming smile and the children went wild. After reviewing gifts, another carousel ride, and a stop in at one of the local breweries for food and beer, we jetted south on the Bitterroot Trail to Lolo and to the Square Dance Campground – again.

Following a week of slacking off, the loaded bicycles feel like riding a bucking giraffe while juggling chainsaws. Ance was exhausted due to working the previous night shift in Juneau and then jumping on a plane back to us – so she was instantaneously out. I had each of the girls tell me a made up story – Then I was out. Who knows when those wild things actually wet to sleep.

Sept. 16th – Lolo to Stevensville

20 miles. Late start to the day – overslept and slow moving. Really no hills to speak of. Stopped in for some hot dogs and drinks for lunch at a Florence gas station – which we consumed, elegantly, sitting in the parking lot. Approaching Stevensville, a man was jogging down the sidewalk towards us and yelled “Are you Forest?” I was a bit confused but nodded, confirming the accusation. “I am Curtis, your Warmshowers host for tomorrow!” We’d sent a message to Curtis through Warmshowers.org hoping to pitch a tent in his yard tomorrow in Darby (some 30 miles away still). He apparently saw us slowly bumping along and stopped to say hello. He provided some advice on using the old Darby road and avoiding the main highway when making our way to his house. 

We rolled into Stevenville and found that our TransAm route refers to a campground that does not exist anymore. Found an out of the way, not technically legal, campsite on the Bitterroot River.

Sept. 17th – Stevensville to Darby

36 miles. Woke to 30 degrees and everything covered in a thin layer of frost. Boiled some river water for coffee and put on every layer of clothing in our bags to stay warm. Hit the road around 10 AM after a breakfast of toasted bread, cheese, and tomatoes – not to mention the doughnuts I scored from the nearby store – Super1Market.

First part of the day spent chugging into Hamilton, still on the Bitterroot Trail. The traffic has thinned on the nearby highway but it is still pretty unrelenting. After a lunch in Hamilton. at the Lions Club playground/park, we set off to Darby for a late afternoon ride.

The back roads and old Darby road bring you up a couple hundred foot climb for views of the Bitterroot valley – a bit obscured by the increasing smoke over the last day. Pretty autumn day surrounded by the Sapphire and Bitterroot Mountains. 

Bumbled into Darby around 6 PM and to Curtis’s house (our WarmShowers host) around 6:30 PM after we bought Curtis some beer. Curtis greeted us from his deck and we promptly began chit-chatting and opening up beer, while the kids ran around the yard playing a combination of bullfighting and pirates.

Curtis told us of being stationed in Germany right around the weakest part of the East/West border when the wall fell. Shortly-thereafter, he went to Korea for the tense year of border issues there. We grabbed some pizza from the store and had some Red Baron while Curtis told dad jokes to Augustine. We finished off the night by reviewing maps of our new route directly south (off the TransAm beaten path, as it were). Curtis is a big rig instructor after driving trucks for more than 20 years. The kids topped of the night with a movie. Slept in real beds with real pillows, real sheets, real mattresses and real dreams.

Sept. 18th – Darby to Indian Trees Campground

25 miles. Had a slow take off morning from Curtis’s house. Bean and cheese quesadillas for breakfast. We also got the opportunity to wash our clothes – a family of four on a cycling trip can seriously soil some clothing. Finally took off from Darby around 11:15 AM. The whole lot of the day was mostly a slow slog owing to the steady uphill but mostly to the gusty headwind that ground progress to something of milling wheat with a stone, by hand.

There are several fires burning in the area, well, burning everywhere, so along with the gusty wind, a thick soupy fog of smoke that dries out your throat and gets at your eyes made the slog feel slightly ominous – like cycling to some inner circle of hell through the woods. The last .5 miles, a good uppy and the off route about a mile to Indian Trees Campground. Had some fancy Ramen for dinner and just while wrapping up, it started to sprinkle. We retreated into the tent for Uno and dice Catan for the evening and stories before bed.

The rain began to come down in cleaning sheets, hopefully putting out fires and washing some of the soot of humanity away.

Sept. 19th – Indian Trees, MT to Twin Creeks Campground, ID

16 Miles. Summit day on Lost Trail Pass at 7,014 ft. The rain abated in the morning, allowing us to have breakfast and pack up camp without turning into sloppy wet unhappy campers. Most of the day taken by a 7 mile, steep climb. Stopped about half way up for a quick snacky lunch. Just when we packed up, the wind began whipping and the rain began spraying down like a hose. At 6,000+ ft, mid-September, it quickly felt like an ice blast. “You gotta stay positive, or it will make it worse,” I yelled over to Augustine in my expert fatherly cheer. She had a look of despair and regret on her face. After about 10 mins, the wind faded and the rain ceased, thus ending the brief cycling horror show. We took off our rain jackets and continued on up the pass at our turtle pace.

At the summit, we began a 5% grade drop back into Idaho. The Autumn cool and scattered clouds made for frozen toes and fingers for the 10 mile or so coast into the Twin Creeks Campground. Not long after setting up camp, the rain began again, causing us to retreat into the tent for more games. Ophelia is my little Catan lucky charm. More times than not, I’d ask her to visualize rolling a certain combo and, like magic, she would roll it. I am taking her to Vegas for sure. The rain slowed just enough for us to make some hot pasta for dinner and then it was back in the tent for the night. Surprisingly, given all the inside a 6×6 fabric square with a family of 4, no one strangled each other and we stayed up till 10 PM.

Sept. 20th – Twin Creeks to Salmon, ID

38 miles. 16 miles of downhill to North Fork and then an easy flatfish 22 miles with a helpful tailwind into Salmon. Stopped for lunch along the Salmon River outside of North Fork at a place called Red Rock – an enormous face of rusted iron rock. Some 7 miles or so past there, a valley with towering snow capped mountains to the east opens up. With the orange sunlight beaming through thick patchy clouds, casting magnificent shadows across the landscape. Rolled into Salmon in good spirits.

While cycling to our humble RV camp abode, a truck ambled up next to Ance with a 10 year old boy asking “are you traveling across the country on your bicycles?” Yes, Ance responded, “do you want some money?” You better save it for your lady friends came Ance’s reply. After pulling over, we were introduced to Wyatt and his grandfather Jarvis. Wyatt was introduced by his grandfather as “Wyatt Pain-In-The-Ass [Lastname], which didn’t stick with me, but I think it rhymed. They offered us to stay at their ranch for the night. While we appreciated the gesture, their ranch was some two miles back the way we came from and were were already pretty set on an RV park with HOT SHOWERS.

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Finished off the evening with Ance’s family famous vegetable soup and Studio Ghibli Howl’s Moving Castle. 

Sept. 21st – Salmon to McFarland Campground

33 miles. Early bird start at 1 PM out of town. Loaded up on treats and supplies as it appears we will be heading into nothingness soon. Throughout the day, we gained some 2,000 ft of elevation. However, when visually inspecting the road from one’s bicycle, ID 28 appears to be flat as a newly hewn table. This makes every slow mile confusing and infuriating.

Stopped in at a one sign town called Tendoy at 21 miles in. While there was a limited selection at the local store, which appeared to be the totality of the town, they did have a six pack of Bitterroot IPA from Hamilton, MT for $8.99 – thank you very much. The last 12 miles were a continuation of the invisible slog. Pulled into McFarland campground around 6:40 PM. Finished up homeschool with Augustine while Ance made another round of vegetable soup.

After chow, we watched a silver dollar moon rise above the mountain ridge while the evening wind began thrashing the grasses, bushes, and trees. Retreated into the tent for a viewing of our only downloaded movie – Lego Movie 2. Only Ophelia, my lucky charm, and I slayed up until the end. 

The cows moo’ed at the moon, horses neighed, and I dreamt of building a wooden boat with my father.

Sept. 22nd – McFarland Campground to Bannister Cemetery

22 miles. We cycled a little over 4 hours today without a ton of mileage to show for it. The slow invisible accent continued, then throw in a steady 12 to 15 MPH direct headwind. It felt more like a 42 mile day. During the last 2 hours of riding, the gusts were particularly maniacal. Putting us in our pace at 5 MPH. We stopped in at Leadore (pronounced LEAD – ORE) for a lunch break and a local Idahoan beer. The valley we’ve been slowly acending the last two days has opened up to a 360 degree epic scenic and surreal combination of desert highland and carved jagged mountain tops – some salted with snow in the distance.

After 2 hours or so out of Leadore, we made it 10 miles and decided to thrown in the proverbial towel. Pulled off onto a random dirt road that brought us a little off the main road where we camped next to an old cemetery – Bannister – overlooking the valley. After looking it up, our cemetery camp is locally referred to as dead man’s pass.

Light sprinkles of rain throughout the night, frozen icicles clung to the rain fly in the morning.

Sept. 23rd – Bannister Cemetery to Birch Creek Campground

36 miles. Last 8 or 9 miles of easy grade to Gilmore Summit at 7,169 ft. The wind has changed direction and we now have a tailwind, a glorious sexy loving awesome tailwind. After the summit, an extraordinary drop where you can see the 6 to 10 miles of the road you’ll be riding in 20 mins or so. Pulled off the side of the road for chicken salad and cheese quesadillas warmed up on the camping stove.

With the tailwind and downhill, the last 12 miles of the day made you feel bionic. Just a wonderful cruise. Stopped at Birch Creek around 3:30 PM, school work and then sleepy time.

Sept. 24th – Birch Creek to Mud Lake (Fairgrounds)

33 miles. Windy morning, frosty bags. Tried to quickly eat breakfast and get out on the road to take advantage of the tailwind. We got about 20 mins of helpful wind pushing until it switched to our faces. With the downhill and the headwind not being nearly as strong as it was the day before, we ended-up knocking out the 33 miles all in one 2.5 hour session into Mud Lake. 

Called up the Jefferson county Sheriff’s office who gave us the contact info of the official sounding “head of the fairgrounds board.” We were given the green light for some free fairground camping thanks to the head. I took a spigot shower after the sun went down – froze my biking cheeks off. Thanks fo the available electrical plugins, we got in some Disney movie action.

Sept. 25th – Mud Lake to Idaho Falls Raceway

31 miles. Great stay at the local Mud Lake fairgrounds. Following a Google route, we set off on 15 miles or so of gravel roads that felt and looked like they were in the middle of nowhere. Took 2.5 hours to get 14 miles. Pulled off for lunch in the shade of a haystack. We’ve finally come to understand why “famous potatoes” is brandished on every Idahoan’s license plate. Truck after truck after truck with mounds of spuds rumbling around. Mechanical rivers of taters cascading this years harvest into the mouths of these massive trucks.

After turning more directly south on good ole 2300 E Rd. with a direct headwind, I felt like I was getting my ass kicked for about 11 miles. Made it to highway 20 and turned East, where the wind became less punishing. Rode for a couple of miles and opted to pull into the Idaho Falls Raceway parking lot. Its an OTV park. Asked a guy living in the area if it was okay if we camped for the night. “There is no camping here.” After Ance worked him over for a bit, it was found that he works for the city and following Ophelia breaking the ice by complimenting his dog, he eventually relented a bit and said “you’ll probably be fine, but the official answer is that there is no camping here.”

We hung out and made dinner before setting up camp. The Winn Family, father and son, who were dirt biking the trails, stopped by and chatted with us as the sun went down. They offered up their yard just down the road if we got booted from the raceway parking lot. Weekend night with Harry Potter. After the family feel asleep, I read for awhile, listening to the wild sounds of coyotes and the domesticated moo’s of the nearby bovine. 

Sept. 26th – Idaho Falls Raceway to Blackfoot (Fairground’s RV Park)

32 miles. A man in a newly minted Ford pickup, pulled into the raceway parking lot around 7:10 AM. As I was making coffee, it became clear that he came to the plateau, that the raceway sits on, to watch the sunrise with his dog. He swung by, said hello and wished us well after the sun wrenched itself from the grip of the horizon. 

Setoff around 9:30 AM. Nice and slow decent into the Snake River valley farmland. We spent the day weaving through back country roads through the now super populated area. One minor stretch of deep loose gravel. Got into Blackfoot through a bike trail that led to Jensen’s Lake park. The kids were released into the playground and Ance made for a bit of a resupply run – some of the girls clothing makes us look like true vagrants. 

Left the park for camping options for the evening. The Blackfoot city RV park is one enormous black asphalt parking lot with automatic sprinklers in the grass – so that was a no. Rolled on to the nearby Fairgrounds, which while informal and gloriously overlooking a gravel parking lot, had some non-auto-sprinkled grass to pitch a tent and hot showers. Spent the evening washing up, making food, chatting with our car camping neighbors (Dale and Terri – Dale shared some beer) and wrapping up with another tent movie night.

Sept. 27th – Blackfoot to Pocatello

27 miles. Meandered into Pocatello through the nearby Fort Hall Reservation and more back roads. Once in the city limits, the insanity of cities once again struck me – a chaos of metal and concrete and rubber tires. We’ve decided to take a day off in Pocatello to wash clothes and rest our butts – maybe even bring the kids to the zoo, like a normal family.