Wacky adventures
My friend Carl lived in Bozeman, MT and went to college at Montana State. I visited him on my drive from Wisconsin to Portland, and we went biking in Bozeman. Carl and I met in high school and are notorious for our creative, and somewhat unusual, games. For instance, we played “Free range Croquet,” described here https://jollyroutes.com/on-the-origins-of-the-rambling-zone/.
Another doozy of ours was a hypermiling competition. Points were accumulated by exceeding expected gas mileage while driving from La Crosse, WI to Rochester, MN and back. Upon arrival to Rochester, we then had to buy from Craigslist, scoring points for the best deal. Carl found something for free and won.
The pinnacle of our achievement (Carl’s invention) was “Our Olympics”, a mini competition for friends, https://gtsolympics.blogspot.com/. Carl arranges an Olympic sport with friends, we play, and awards are given for Gold, Silver, and Bronze. It’s gone over a decade now. The highlights of my personal involvement are the wheelchair 100m dash (I had several knee surgeries in my life), wheelchair basketball, a mini triathlon where I got lost, bobsledding with toboggans on thin strips of patchy snow, and shooting in the Arizona desert.
Bobcats be here
On this visit to Bozeman there would be no Our Olympic events, but there would be an epic road ride. Epic for me by the way is anything more than 20 miles through scenic terrain. Our peloton consisted of myself, Carl, Poppy (Carl’s wife), and Poppy’s friend Tex. Our friend Tex split his time as a seasonal construction worker and seasonal bum. The week before he portaged a canoe on Isle Royale, and was now on the way to Bend, OR. Bend is a mecca for any and all sports bums (ski, bike, rafting, etc). This 50 states bike voyage of mine is a way to honor the bum mentality while still maintaining a stable career.
We set out from Carl and Poppy’s house toward the University. I rode my trusty blue Cannondale road bike. After stopping and checking out the Bobcat Football Stadium we headed east – I think. The details of this route are foggy in my head as I was not the one who planned it. As I’ve often said, the best rides are with locals on their favorite routes.
The city of Bozeman is flat, as it lies in the bottom of a big valley between the Bridger Range to the north, the Spanish Mountains to the South, as well as other ranges such as the Tobacco Root, Big Belt, and Horseshoe Hills. Before it became a skiing destination, Bozeman was known as a “Cow Town” for its ranching. I could feel the mixture; One part ranching community, one part ski town. We rode out of town and into the broad, expansive valley, with the surrounding mountains in sight.
Big Sky Country
Montana’s nickname is “Big Sky Country,” which seems to contradict all logic. Everywhere has the same sky, and the sky is big everywhere. Except in Montana the sky feels bigger. I noticed it when I crossed into Eastern Montana from Wyoming and drove over the grassy, rolling hills of ranchland and I noticed it years before on a family trip when we were the only car on a lonely stretch of road with thunderstorms gathering off in the distance. The same feeling caught up with me as I biked across the wide valley and rolled toward the distant foothills of the Bridger Range. This was Big Sky country.
Once we got into the foothills we did some climbing. I wouldn’t describe it as lung busting, but it was a reminder that Montana had mountains in addition to sky. The route eventually led to a hilltop with a screaming downhill that was popular with local longboarders. A crowd gathered and they were watching each other fly down the hill. It looked like a terrifying hill to take on with a longboard.
I waited for the longboarders to pause their action and then took my turn down the “road slide”. With the wind rushing in my face I rode down, steep rock faces looming on either side. I hit 40 mph, definitely fast enough for a rush. At the bottom of the hill, I found the one landmark of the ride, an old schoolhouse. I did my due diligence and slid down the playground slide, not quite hitting 40 mph but somewhere close.
Back in Bozeman
Once we all took our turns down the “road slide” we took a left and headed back to town. A long downhill on a canyon road rewarded all the strenuous climbing we did earlier. Then we were back in the valley and rolling on Bozeman’s residential streets again.
After dinner we ate famous, local ice cream and walked around town. I don’t remember the name of the place but I do remember it had outdoor seating with a garden ambiance. Then, we walked around. Bozeman allows chickens, so from time to time we heard the tell-tale clucking coming out of someone’s yard.
At twilight we passed by some college students who were spending their evening smoking pot and watching a grocery store. They were fascinated that the store had an upstairs level, and they cheered whenever an employee was spotted there. You don’t always need to pay for cable to get good spectator sports.
