Day 23 Polsun to Kalispell 30 miles by bike, 20 miles by pick up truck

Off at 9:15 on a totally overcast day. The Big Sky Country also sometimes comes with a big cloud, as it has since midday yesterday. But the actual precipitation was minimal and I rode for 30 very pleasant miles along the east shore of Flathead Lake. It was Sunday morning and the traffic was very light until about the third hour of riding. Whether due to the hour or the proximity to the town of Big Fork traffic picked up after a couple of hours. I often forgo socks as they simply get wet and don't add much warmth and my feet had grown cold and I was looking forward to a lunch break when about a mile short of Big Fork my rear tire blew out. I knew from the pop that it was more than a merely punctured tube. I have a spare tube and patches to repair tubes, but tires are a different matter. I unloaded all my stuff and turned the bike over and pulled off the wheel. The break was about an inch long running along the working surface of the tire. I searched my worldly goods seeking something strong, thin and flexible that I could insert between a new inner tube and the inside of the tire at the point of the rupture. The right material might hold the tube within the tire and allow me to ride again. I found some nylon patching material in something I had brought along called the Optimist's Repair Kit. I placed it in the proper place, inserted a new tube into the tire, got them both onto the wheel and pumped the tire up. There was a slight bulge at the point of the break, but basically it seemed to hold. I put all my stuff back on the bike and gingerly began to pedal the last mile into Big Fork. My jury rigged patch held for about 3/4 of a mile. When it blew again I knew I would have to hitch hike into Kalispell where I also knew there are bike shops. There were lots of pick ups going by and I wasn't worried about getting a ride. Being a white bearded geezer serves to allay fears. I walked the bike into town, running on the rear rim, picked up a subway sandwich, returned to the highway and stuck out my thumb. About the 5th truck to pass picked me up. The driver was a guy about 30 who works as a siding contractor. He grew up in the area and knew where the three bike shops in Kalispell were to be found. The two good shops were closed on Sunday so he dropped me at a motel near the shops and I was in for the night.

Kalispell had been my goal for the day and I had intended to go into one or the other of these shops to get a little tune up work and check on the local wisdom regarding getting over the mountains. So I was not set back at all. Nonetheless this episode was disheartening in just the opposite way that climbing down from the bridge onto the dirt road two days earlier had been buoying. Here I had failed. I had used an internal combustion engine to move me forward. It is not a case of despair, but it is a disappointment. I have resolved to remove my license plate that says Zero CO2.

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