We awoke to several of the Tour riders already packed up and gone and carefully picked our way around the dark community center... getting ready for the day. We knew we were in for a loop with Fleecer Ridge ast the beginning of our day, so we tried to get out as soon as possible, talking to Daniel from Leipzig before we trundled off in the direction of the gravel roads. We hit some steep sections early on and I couldn’t keep from being anxious - “Is this it? … no… Is this it?” and then, after a quick warm up section that we had to hike a bike for, we went downhill around a bend and… “Ohhhh…. This is it.” The pictures don’t do it justice, but it was a truly steeeeeeeep slog on some truly slippery rock. Ziven went first, telling me to wait for him and then he would come take stuff off my bike and carry it for me. I was, however, too stubborn to let him get all the credit, so I let him go up the first pitch before starting on the grassy edge - my bike shoes lacked structure and tread so I wanted to avoid slippier dirt and scree at all costs. Ziven eventually reached the top when I was about halfway and he came down to help. Still stubbornly refusing aid, I allowed him to spot me as I huffed and puffed, heaving and pausing after each step, wending my way through the grass and sagebrush when possible and sliding on the rock otherwise. At the top of the steepest section, we remounted and pedaled a bit before succumbing to a series of hop-on, hop-off double tracks that was too steep for me at times. Ziven talked to a curious motorbiker heading the other direction and the motorbiker went to check out the steepest part before turning around and passing me again from behind, retreating away from what would be truly terrifying on a 600 lb motorbike.

When I reached the top (after a few frustrated yells and a tip-over into some grass, we had a snack in a beautiful alpine meadow. Before pushing off for the descent, I made Ziven film me frolicking à la Maria from the Sound of Music, singing about the hills being alive and expressing some of my joy that the worst part of our day was inevitably over. The top of the descent was a bit bumpy but the double track soon gave way to smooth gravel in a lovely pine forest. Heeding my intuition, I blasted my bear whistle every ten seconds or so throughout the very long descent and, along with the harmonizing screech of my brakes, there were surely no bears in the vicinity. Once we reached the highway, we turned along a frontage road and began a beastly steep climb before descending into a pretty valley and then climbing some more. We stopped at the top of the final climb and snacked while fighting off the mosquitos. We then descended for quite a while, winding down a mountain pass on gravel for miles before connecting with the road. Around a few bends, we could see Butte looming on the hill before us and we began scouting for coffee.

After winding our way along a frontage road and through a few neighborhoods, we found a Starbucks, first at a Safeway, where we bought chicken nuggets, salad, donuts, and various treats for dinner, before going to a “proper” Starbucks and getting fancy drinks to go with our meal. We then packed up and biked up a final hill to our Warmshowers host, trying to avoid what sounded like gunshots or fireworks, some alternative locals, and the worst drivers I have ever experienced. Our hosts stored our bikes in their downstairs garage and we got situated with showers and laundry in their charming home and guest bedroom. We then joined their family friends for a barbeque and chatted with the hosts about the route, using their maps and sharing stories. Ziven and I then piled into the same twin bed for TV and fell asleep.