Saturday, July 23rd
Rest day in Missoula. My first since I left Rapid City in South Dakota, around 17 days, 3 states, 1000+ miles, and many mountains ago.
I have a night booked at the Shady Spruce Hostel. It’s close to the ACA headquarters, and after having a cup of coffee on the deck outside the house I stayed in last night, I cycle the couple of miles back downtown.
I was expecting a place bustling with other cyclists but it’s oddly quiet, especially given it’s a weekend. A chat with one guy leaving on the Great Divide route, one other guy inside remains glued to the hostel laptop and a girl walks around with earphones in.
It’s a Saturday morning. The city is bustling with food markets selling organic produce, families walking or cycling around, street performers trying their best to entertain the crowds. It’s a pleasant place, though i’m a little too tired to care for a lot of it and really I just want to slouch in my room but I have to wait until the afternoon to check in.
I added up my miles tracked with Strava last night. I’ve cycled 4300 in America so far. I knew I was over 3000, perhaps nearing 4000, but knowing roughly what remains I’m pretty confident i’ll finish with 5000 miles behind me which is hard to believe.
And I can feel the culmination of these miles as I drag myself down to the market by the river and sleepily queue for a breakfast burrito which ultimately disappoints. I go to a stall selling baked goods and pick up a swirly pastry of some kind to redeem this brunch. The store owner also gives me a large circular bread after I tell her why i’m here and she says i’ll need the carbohydrates.
I sit down in a coffee shop for a while then finally check in and spend a few hours in bed eating bread and wasting time.
I go downstairs later on to make a coffee and get talking to a young guy named Keegan from LA, currently hitchhiking his way back to California after some time spent in Wyoming and Montana with a friend. Both his dad and his grandfather are called Kim.
I go back to my room for a bit then later sit outside on the porch in the sun trying to plan my route out of Missoula. I’m joined by Keegan again. We get on well and he seems well travelled and much more interesting than most 20 year olds. We find our way back to the pizza place I went to yesterday, then wander around town a little aimlessly as it gets dark, looking in shop windows at neon signs, drifting along, passing the hours. Tomorrow he’s being driven down to Southern California by a guy with one arm who grows weed. I hope he makes it ok.
There’s a basement club with some live music on. We wait until it starts. I’m on the fence about going in as it’s 10, i’m tired, and I still don’t really know which way i’m heading tomorrow. It’s loud and pretty bad metal, I decide to call it a night, and we head back to the empty quiet hostel.