We spent last night in Two Rivers RV Park in Noxon, Montana, right at the confluence of the Clark Fork and Bull Rivers. There were other bikers at the RV park last night. Two recently retired guys from Des Moines, Iowa, had begun their ride home from Anacortes. I chatted a bit with the two of them, but didn't get their names. Maybe I'll come across them again. Dee had also spotted a couple—he on a recumbent, and she on an upright touring bike. I didn't get a chance to talk with them last night.
Since the temperature was predicted to be cooler for the ride today, I decided to sleep in. I rolled out on the bike at 7:15 and began my ride up the beautiful Bull River valley. There was still some fog around the river so the temperature was a little cool—just under 60 when I left the campground. Here's one of the early morning views:
Contrary to the riding conditions warning on the map—"SR 56 offers grand scenery but poor riding: the road is narrow and curvy and a considerable number of logging and mining trucks use it"—SR 56 provided a great ride. The road didn't seem particularly narrow, and the trucks that did pass (there were quite a few) gave me a wide berth. The shoulder was not very wide, but it was level and free of many obstacles. One thing I noticed was the lack of broken beer bottles. I couldn't swear that folks that drive this road drink better beer, but they don't dispose of their bottles on the shoulder.
At a little over 15 miles, Bull River widens into the very large Bull Lake. Dee noted, when we talked later, that the residences around the lake (vacation & permanent) varied widely from rustic cabins to McMansions. Here's a not-so-great photo of the lake from the northern edge:
At one point I spotted a sign that reminded me of signs I like to see, e.g. "bike lane," "share the road with bikes," and "free beer." The latter usually comes with the caveat "tomorrow." But, here's the sign that prompted my revery:
It's obviously a warning to trucks about a steep downhill coming up. In this case a 7% grade. For a cyclist going in the direction of the sign it's like a "Take a ride on the Reading" card in Monopoly. It's a free ride. This particular sign was a precursor of a long down-hill ride that got my maximum speed to just over 35 mph.
The turn onto US 2 brought a pleasant surprise. The shoulder was now 10 feet wide and separated from traffic by a rumble strip. And, in many places there was a 2-foot strip on the inside of the shoulder where it had not been chip sealed, which rendered the ride much smoother. Another long down-hill run came shortly after the turn, adding to my happiness. The only downside was there was more broken glass, though most was clear glass—moonshine jars? There was, however lots of room to maneuver around the shards.
I couldn't pass up stopping at Kootenai Falls. The information boards explaining the history and geology of the area were fascinating:
There were signs pointing to a path that lead to the falls. I didn't have a bike lock with me today, so I took my bike along. Here's what I saw:
The folks you see from behind, looking at the falls, are Betsy and Scott. Turns out they were two of the other bikers in camp with us last night. They're from San Jose. They took the train to Bellingham to begin their ride to Whitefish, MT, where they'll catch a train home.
Here's a photo of them at the stairway from the train track crossing:
Yes, I did carry my bike down those stairs…and back up again. In fact, here's proof (look carefully at the second flight of steps):
Most of the grade was in my favor on the 12-mile ride into Libby. On the way I spotted another of my favorite signs:
It says "Libby 3." You could substitute any destination town and that would be a welcome sign.
I didn't see much wildlife today. There was a deer, about 10 miles into the ride, that scampered into the woods too quickly for me to determine what type it was. I saw another at about 30 miles, standing on the shoulder about 35 yards ahead of me. It nonchalantly strolled into the woods and was out of sight before I closed the distance.
The only other living, wild creatures I spotted actually looked nearly domestic. As I entered Libby, there they sat in a nest atop a utility pole—two hawks:
The roadside detritus inventory didn't increase by much today either. There were a couple of shirts, a machine drive belt, and some pieces of rope. Everything else was pretty much the same as I've seen elsewhere.
Skink (the Carl Hiassen character who lives on roadkill) would have had somewhat slim pickings today as well. There were two very small mice (not together), a very small snake, a terribly battered rabbit, and two birds.
The temperature was about 76 when I arrived at the camp site, where Dee already had everything all set up. Before showering I downed another bottle of cold water and a glass and a half of chocolate milk. In the past year I've seen a number of articles promoting the value of chocolate milk as a recovery drink, including this one. I could tell you that it's the reason I drink it, but the truth is that I just love chocolate milk.