Glacier Trip - Day 8 - Aug 25
September 29th, 2005
Our last morning with Backroads. It is quite sad knowing this is it.
The good thing is that we have a new sport to try … single track mountain biking.
After a hardy breakfast, we all meeet in the lobby to walk up to Ghost Mountain. There we get fitted for mountain bikes and meet Celia who will be teaching the basics of single track before we head out. There is a practice run that we will get to run through to work on some basic skills. Seems easy enough. So off we go.
The start of the mountain biking is a ride on the chair lift up to the top of Big Mountain. The views are spectacular. It is a lovely crisp morning. At the top of the mountain the view is thrilling. You can see Glacier Nation Park along with the Canadian Rockies off to one side. We all make our last stop at the Chalet then mount up for our 8 miles downhill ride.
We are warned early on to only look where we are going, never down hill and never right in front. Always look off to where you will be. The switchbacks are a little tough to navigate and after about 2 miles, I discover that maybe I shouldn’t be riding with my hands on the brakes all the time. During one tight switchback, I paniced and clenched my hands. Only to result in me landing about 5 feet in front of the bike … thankfully on my feet. Quickly the group separates into the guys and the gals. I am having a great time … but want to get down the hill with the bike and all in one piece. I quickly decide that the switchbacks are what are going to get me. But with some practice … I get better and can navigate them if I put the inside foot down quickly and spin the bike.
Part way down the hill, we catch up with the guys. Turns out there is a skills test in the woods off the trail. We are offered the chance to give it a try. After taking a quick look at the wooden path at the end, I decide this is definitely not for me. But all the guys head off to give it a shot. After a while, we look up the trail and see bright yellow coming through the woods. Followed by a screech and flying yellow. One rider down. Thankfully Scott is ok, but the tree took a piece of him. I’m so glad that I passed on that little pleasure.
After the rest of the guys finish up, we are off down the hill again, with warnings to make sure we stay on the correct path. Also mentioned, just ride through the mud puddles, don’t try to go around em. This is good advice and when I see the mud puddle, I’m thinking, ok - this is the spot and through I ride. No biggie. Not sure why it was even mentioned. Then I come up on 3 puddles all in a row. Too late to slow down. Doh. Big root in the second puddle. Good thing I have such a tight grip on the bike. After completely splattering myself (not to mention the air time) all is well. A few more turns and then I’m at the bottom.
That wasn’t so bad … in fact … it was kind of fun. Good thing is that we finished earlier than planned. There is plenty of time to do it again. So when the chance is offered, I’m off like a shot. As are all the guys. Imagine that…
The second run seemed to go better than the first … well except when I over gripped on the breaks again … I landed on my knees. But that is just dirt. No worries. Not even hurt. Wooo hooo.
We then rode back to Ghost Mountain and turned in our bikes. Then off for our last lunch and good byes. =(
That van ride down the mountain was bittersweet. It is really sad to know that we may never see most of these people again, after spending such a wonderful week with them. But the van left us at the front door of Grouse Mountain Lodge. Everything seems different now.
We get in touch with Joanne (after a couple drinks in the lounge) and invite her to meet us in town for a last dinner in Whitefish before we head out tomorrow. She accepts and we head to Wasabi for a little sushi dinner. The food is really good and the pricing is incredible. I think this is the most inexpensive sushi dinner we have ever had. Great company too. But all too soon … dinner is over and we are saying goodbye to Joanne on the sidewalk in Whitefish. It is a sad walk back to Grouse Mountain, but home awaits.