So I decided to make some adjustments to my riding set up. With the intention of riding back east after making it to the west coast, I realized that I would need to seriously pare down on weight if I wanted the slightest chance at riding 3,000 miles in under a month. I figured out a way to rig a rear rack to my bike (which posed a bit of a challenge due to a lack of eyelets), and grabbed a couple of mini panniers to hold my rain jacket, a U-lock, my notebook, a small tarp in case it rains, and a bit of food. I sent home everything else--the trailer, the tent, the stove, extra socks and underwear, extra top layers--everything. By the time I had finished, I had a 29-pound box ready to ship. My remaining gear (not counting water) weighed about 10 or 15 pounds, and fluctuated tremendously based upon food supply. I was psyched to do the minimalist thing. After hauling all that weight for a couple thousand miles, I felt like I was pedalling on a cloud. Piper was jealous.
We climbed up to the top of Lolo pass on the border of Idaho and Montana, with an elevation of about 5,500 feet. We rode a sweet downhill and stopped at Jerry Johnson hot springs, where we got lost hiking through the woods and never actually found the springs. Frustrated and exhausted from mistakenly hiking up another mountain and then falling into the cold river somewhat by accident, we went to sleep laughing at ourselves for fumbling so awkwardly through the woods. We also laughed at the fact that we were trying to sleep on piles of rocks. But at a certain level of exhaustion, even rock piles will not prevent you from closing your eyes and drooling all over your sleeping bag.
