Aliens, climbing, and wind: the worst combination

Today was more of a mental exercise in restraining my rage than any kind of actual physical work. I feel cheated, dejected, and vengeful. I want to kick the wind in its smug little face.

Last night in Dillon, I pitched my tent on the lawn of the mental health facility. I met a woman named Kendall earlier in the day who ran the center and she gave me permission to do so.

I dreamt about aliens. Aliens are my one and only crippling fear. I can deal with darkness and murderers and any animal. But not aliens. It was the worst night of sleep I've had in the last two weeks. I woke up at 6, had a quick breakfast, and hit the road at 7.

I knew before I started that today would include 3000 feet of climbing; one 1500 foot slope from Dillon to Badger Pass, a 1000 foot descent, and then another 1500 foot climb to Big Hole Pass. From there, the town of Jackson is 11 miles downhill and Wisdom, my destination, another 18 miles.

The initial 14-mile, 1500 foot climb was fine. I finished it in about 2 hours. But, as soon as I crested the climb, a massive headwind rolled in from the west. Completely sustained, the wind did not break for a second for the next 35 miles.

The downhill portion, which should have been an easy glide, slowed to a crawl. I moved about as fast as I was moving uphill on a 5% grade. The second 1500 foot climb crawled along at about 5 mph.

It was the final portion from Big Hole Pass to Jackson that broke me. The wind cheated me out of the downhill I had been looking forward to all day and made it the most awful ordeal. I exploded into some kind of supernova state of rage, screaming and cursing at the wind. In retaliation, the wind howled so loudly that I couldn't even hear myself.

At this point, I had been out of water for the last 10 miles and had another 10 miles until Jackson. I wanted to toss my bike over the mountain and fly out of Montana that instant.

But, as the saying goes, you can't always get what you want. I begrudgingly got back on my bike and pedaled, one foot at a time. It was only by the power of "Born This Way" that I was able to continue.

I'm in Jackson now. I have another 18 miles to go, but I'm taking a multi-hour break. The fries at the only restaurant in town are really good. I wish I had some tartar sauce.

Thank God I decided to do 65 miles today instead of 115. It would have killed me for sure. Over and out.

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