langles confronts technology: Tour Divide, day 9, Lakeview to Coulter Bay

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Somehow we only got a sprinkle during the night, so packing kit was not the soggy affair we feared. Naturally Peter was first off but we yo-yo'd back and forth with wardrobe changes, not to mention stopping to take in some stunning landscapes. I caught Peter stopped up ahead over a small rise adjacent a sign and only realised the significance of it once I got there. Montana, beautiful and challenging as it was, had gone on forever, and now we were about to leave it behind and enter pocket-sized Idaho, at least from our perspective. Several segments of singletrack later we were in Sawtell/Big Springs, filling up on Subway, and doing the standard resupply.

I was enjoying the change of scenery until a km or two into the "rail trail", a narrow sandpit of coarse particulate that extended as far as the eye could see (for about 40 km!), sapping one of strength, cheating one of traction, and pounding the posterior, joints and tendons with a frequency of 2-3 Hz. It was akin to a rippled river bed drained of water. I'm sure Idaho has some other desirable features, but the rail trail ain't one of them. About 3 hrs later, however, justification for the rail trail became apparent, as the old line gradually descended and wound its way into a picturesque forested gorge full of walkers, campers and holiday makers. Truly spectacular stuff. I would have loved to have taken a dip at numerous points, but the compulsion to keep things ticking over was too much. At the trail's conclusion a short sharp climb out of the gorge delivers one to another classic vista of rolling fields with some dramatic mountains in the distance - the Tetons, presumably coupled with the Yellowstone massif behind them.

Somehow I missed the Squirrel Creek Ranch feed, but I was now out of Idaho and into Wyoming, and had enough food and drink to at least get me to Flagg Ranch Resort, up on a high plateau, gained after climbing through some lovely forest, the odd snow drift and alpine meadows. Just before gaining Flag Ranch I thought I saw some large white swans (Trumpeter?) on the adjacent river so took a side road to check them out; white Pelicans, of all things, at altitude! I got back on route just as Alex Hawkins and Per Lofstrand cruised past, and managed to catch them as we gained Flagg Ranch, one of the more bombastic camping/resort complexes you are ever likely to see. Tyler was also there, having managed to get temporarily lost in the suburb sized cabin/RV/camping area. I traipsed into the main resort building, found my way to the bar, and ordered dinner next to Tyler and Peter. The general store attached had all we needed for resupply.

Coulter Bay, just over the hill, was the evening destination, and whilst Peter left before us, Tyler and I ground our way at a more sedate pace up and over the pass before dropping to the lake on the other side, greeted in magnificent splendour by the Tetons captured by the setting sun. Truly magical views. We stopped a few times for pics but darkness caught up with us for the final drag into town. Tyler took a liking to a spot by the side of the road and opted to bivvy there. I was still concerned over the possibility of bear encounters so decided to push on into the dark to the imagined safety of Coulter Bay itself. Not much happening when I arrived. I got directions to cabins and the camping area from a closing restaurant. I was actually desperate for a cabin and the possibility of a shower, but they were booked solid so crept into the camping area, which was also pretty packed, and rolled out my bivvy between a few bushes separating designated, occupied sites, importantly not too far from the toilet block. Anything involving walking, actually hobbling, at this stage was pretty painful, let alone simply standing up or sitting down, where knees, ankles and achillies would scream at me over such extremes of flexion. I stashed my food into the adjacent squeaky bear cage and was out like a light, and gone before anyone had stirred early the next morning.

(207 km, 1583 m)