The morning would be a long one. Filled with huckleberry pancakes we had plenty of strength to make it past the Lochsa Lodge in Powell. Here the incredibly steady assent of the last one hundred and fifty miles would end. And in five miles we would ascend one thousand feet. After burgers at Lochsa we started our slow plodding ascent. I was glad of every cog on my low low gear.

Near the top, we could see the checkerboard pattern of logging. The area was split up this way and alternately preserved or sold to logging. Also near the top, some car tourists called out to us, as we panted laboriously up the steepest grade, "Y'all think that's fun?". "Yes!" I replied, angrily.

Seriously the ascents aren't all that bad. With the huge gear ranges we had, it's more a matter of patience than strength. If you can keep a heavy bike vertical at three miles an hour for an hour or two, you can climb these passes. It just takes patience.

At the top of the hill we stopped for a long while. As we started the descent Patti realized she had forgotten something and had to go back up about a quarter mile. Any further and we would have had to leave it. The descent was steeper than the ascent and breathtaking. We whipped by the "Welcome to Montana" sign and the "Speed Limit - Reasonable and Prudent" sign as well. We also passed into our first timezone, and over the Continental Divide. Quite a day.

At the bottom of the hill we kept whipping along. I pulled 17-21 mph with a tail wind and slight downhill all the way into Lolo. We ruled out the hotel in town, as being too expensive and settled into the Bitterroot RV campground. Since the owners were away we ended up staying for free. We shared drinks with the closest campers, who had just moved to Lolo and were looking for a house.