“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.” – Freya Stark

Hey all. I'm at the library in Columbia Falls, MT. I have a couple of pretty decent photos to share, but the computers here aren't dealing with images well. I'm going to type up the post and if they haven't uploaded by then, I'll try them in a different town tomorrow.

Yesterday was a real bummer of a ride. The night before, I said goodbye to Matt and Jessie and, the morning of, I bid farewell to the awesome group from the University of Illinois. I spent the night in a church in Missoula with them and we stayed up until 1 AM just chatting and lollygagging. God, did I miss talking to people my own age. It was nice to be able to drop the permanently happy, I-just-need-a-place-to-stay façade for a night and just be real. Not that any of my interactions with the people I've met have been fake; it's just exhausting to laugh and be ultra-genial when you're worried sick about where you're going to sleep for the night.

Leaving the group put a giant metaphorical raincloud over my 71-mile ride from Missoula to Polson (not that the weather was particularly cooperative either). I wasted tons of time lollygagging in every town I crossed because I just didn't want to be on my bike at all. I especially didn't want to go through the ordeal of finding a place to pitch my tent in Polson, a haughty lakeside community with police cars patrolling every single street.

Fortune smiled on me though as I went to grab dinner at a place called Tootsie's Diner. My waiter, a scruffy and vivacious worker named Lance, asked why the hell I was on a bike. I explained a little bit about my trip, my plight, and about how the local campground charges $27/night (honestly, I hate you KOA Campgrounds). Lance sympathized though and offered to let me pitch my tent in his dad's backyard! The owner of the diner overheard our conversation though and did me one better: he offered to let me pitch my tent on the restaurant's property. After a quick call to the police department to tell them a cyclist would be there, I was in business.

I spent the night there and headed out at around 7:30 today for a pleasantly quick 60-mile ride to Columbia Falls, the western gate to Glacier National Park. The only item from today's ride of note: I finally caved in and bought huckleberry merchandise. Huckleberries are HUGE in Montana. You can't go anywhere without finding jams and preserves and pies. I bought some huckleberry honey and I've been spreading it on tortillas with slices of bananas. It's life-changing.

Tomorrow, I'm heading into Glacier National Park, the national park to which I've been most excited to plan a visit. I tried to convince my friend Julia to come here with me last year, but she turned me down. It was a smart decision on her part since it was December.

I'm alive!!

The main route through the park, Going-to-the-Sun Road is partially closed due to snow plowing (yes, in mid-July). I should be able to ride about 30-40 miles into the Glacier, depending on the ever-changing status of road closures tomorrow. Thankfully, I'm arriving on a Thursday so traffic won't be as heavy. I'm planning on camping at a campground in the park; like a lot of national parks, they have group hiker/biker sites for $5 so it's not too expensive. Just a forewarning, I probably won't have service at all tomorrow so my next post will likely have TONS of pictures.

Thinking further ahead, I'm planning on being out of Montana and in Idaho on Sunday. From there, it'll only take me six days to get to Vancouver if I can pull off the murderous pace I'm planning. I just want to see the ocean and cities with legitimate human populations already.

In the most exciting news, my parents mailed me pants! Along with my passport and gloves, I will finally be getting the calf coverage that has so eluded me for the last three weeks.

I'm off to find somewhere to stay for the night. Think of me as you go to your IMAX 3D Harry Potter premieres tomorrow :(.