Day 77: Cardston, Alberta, Canada to Saint Mary, MT

July 28, 2008

73.09 Miles, 6:20:22 Ride Time, 11.53 Average Speed, 38.27 Maximum Speed

I was up early - earlier than the other cyclists in the park. I just don't like to linger in the tent. Jordan and I were riding together again today, and he was ready to go before me despite actually waking up later - I still haven't gotten the whole getting-everything-ready-to-go thing worked out yet, I suppose.

It was a cool sunny morning, marred slightly by a worse headwind than yesterday. Still, the scenery was great for the next few hours as we rode closer to the mountains.

I hadn't gotten breakfast in Cardston, so I was looking forward to Mountain View, which, according to my map, had "All Services", including a restaurant. The fifteen miles from Cardston to Mountain View went slowly because of the headwind, because I was hungry, and because I stopped often to take pictures. There wasn't much in Mountain View - just a few houses and a single gas station/store/motel/restaurant where I stopped. I was really looking forward to breakfast, so my disappointment was intense when, after striding up to the counter and asking for a menu, I was informed that "Oh. We haven't had the restaurant here in ten years. It's just a store now."

What?! Things must be slower-paced up here in the Great White North, because the sign outside still said "Restaurant", AND there was a sign behind the counter listing prices (from 1998, presumably) of"Chicken Strip Baskets", Hamburgers, etc. After verifying that 1) They were not playing a joke on me, and 2) There was no place else to eat in miles, I threw a minor tantrum before resigning myself to an expensive "breakfast" of chips, candy bars and pop. At least I discovered another exotic Canadian candy bar - the "Eat-More", which, ironically, I did not, in fact, eat, but simply used as a prop in one of my "amusing" photographs.

After that, we rode through more great scenery on lightly traveled Province Route 501, before turning south, where our headwind disappeared, but we encountered a couple of climbs. I felt strong on the first hill, which was steep and long enough that I actually used my small chainring for the first time in ages. I still had to kick the front derailleur into place, so that problem hadn't magically fixed itself in the last month, apparently. Should I get the thing looked at by a professional? Nah - that seems costly and unnecessary. as long as my elegant solution of kicking it continues to work.

There was a scenic overlook at the top of the first hill, and while I waited a few minutes there, a female motorcyclist/former bicyclist engaged me in a long conversation. Meanwhile, Jordan arrived and talked to a group of bicyclists on a supported ride; in typical fashion, he scored free Red Bull from them while the motorcyclist continued to complain to me about the rude drivers she had encountered recently; I though they hadn't been so bad lately.

The Red Bull must have had its intended affect, because Jordan was much stronger on the next hill, although I did win our half-assed "race" to the US/Canadian border, where we got through surprisingly quickly and easily. Thanks, unexpectedly courteous US border officials!

After about eighteen miles of unexceptional scenery, where the only incident of note was our encounter with a few "free range" cattle on the road, we arrived in THE WORST TOWN ON THE NORTHERN TIER - BABB, MONTANA.

Babb, about nine miles from the entrance to Glacier National Park, is the worst kind of tourist trap. It consists of a diner, a motel, a gas station, a store, and a what appeared to be a few dozen surly, unwashed inhabitants. We first stopped at the diner, where the greasy-haired guy there talked on his cell phone, ignoring us for the ten minutes we sat at a table. We gave up and went across the street to the store, where I discovered that they were attempting to sell, at a ludicrously high price, chocolate milk well past its expiration date. I did buy pop and a few snacks.

Every time I've bought something at a store, they have let me fill my water bottles from the tap for free. Not here. They insisted we purchase bottled water. It was only nine miles to the next town, and I could wait, but Jordan, who drinks a lot more water than I do, could not. I waited while he conducted a fruitless search around town for an unsecured water spigot, and then watched as he made a trip to the gas station across the street. They wouldn't give him water either. What money-grubbing jerks these people were.

Babb, Montana sucks, big time. Poplar, Montana has a bad reputation, but I found the people there friendly, and I'll take so-called "Stab City" over "Babb City" any time.

It was nine miles to Saint Mary (pop. 183), another tourist town, but much less egregious than Babb. I decided to stop there for the day, while Jordan planned to ride several more miles to camp out in Glacier National Park. Unless I caught up with him tomorrow, that would probably be the last time we'd be riding together. It had been fun - thanks, Jordan!

I secured a "camping cabin" at a campground in town (having been slightly freaked out by all the Grizzly Bear warnings recently, I didn't want to sleep in the tent there), then purchased cookies, pop, and a $5.00 bag of Doritos for dinner.

Tomorrow I would ride up Going-to-the-Sun Road, in Glacier National Park, supposedly one of the most glorious bike rides on the planet.

Today's ride: 73 miles (117 km)
Total: 5,624 miles (9,051 km)

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