The weather has been perfect here at Glacier, and even
though July 31 wasn’t the full moon, I decided that it was close enough to do
my first moonlit Going to the Sun hill climb since the last time 21 years ago,
just before I met Gail. I was incredibly nervous and filled with self-doubt in
the hours leading up to last night’s ride. The climb itself isn’t dangerous,
but it takes on a completely different dimension at night. There’s wildlife, illumination,
and the road construction to take into consideration, as well as dipping
temperatures and sheer drop-offs.
I arrived at Lake McDonald Lodge at 10 pm. The lodge is 21
miles and 3,430 vertical feet away from the Logan Pass summit and my turnaround
point. I nervously took inventory of my gear and waited for other cyclists to
show up. Surely there would be others on such a perfect night.
In addition to the leg warmers that I wore for the whole
ride, I packed arm warmers and lightweight winter cycling gloves, as well as an
additional long-sleeved layer. For illumination I had my trusty Cat Eye
Opticube headlamp and a blinky taillight. I took two spare tubes and a Clif
bar, and wore my clear bike glasses and favorite wool socks.
At 10:55 I still didn’t see any cyclists approaching, but
was hopeful that maybe there were others who started further up by Avalanche,
so I hit the road. The moon was bright and was finally above the tall pines, so
I thought there would be plenty of moonlight to guide me for the first 11 flat
miles, but I was very much mistaken. This section of road is densely forested
so the moonlight was largely obscured. A number of cars were passing me
west-bound, and at least two of them didn’t switch off their high beams, which
was more than a little scary, since I had a hard time seeing where the shoulder
was. My biggest concern at this stretch was an unwelcome chance encounter on
some bears, but fortunately I saw no wildlife until later.
After Avalanche was startled by what I thought to be a
bright headlight from a car. I turned around and instead saw an awe-inspiring
moon illuminating the road brilliantly, and my spirits soared. From that point
forward I had ample moonlight, and in fact I set my light to its low setting so
that moonlight would be my primary source of light for the rest of the trip.
Shortly after Avalanche the climb really started, and the
average grade for the 11 miles to the summit was 5.3%, a very manageable climb.
Just past the only tunnel, I passed a couple on mountain bikes, which buoyed my
spirits. They started at Avalanche, so I figured that there might be others.
As I passed The Loop, the only switchback on the west side
of the pass, I noticed a bunch of people in the parking lot as well as some
other cyclists, so I was hopeful that I would encounter others. My next encounter
was with wildlife—a mountain goat was nibbling grass on the edge of the cliff,
but skittered down the mountain as soon has it heard me.
Next up was the road construction, and the road surface went
from smooth pavement to hard-packed dirt. The dirt sections were completely
manageable for the ascent, though they proved a bit trickier on the descent.
There were sections where the road narrowed to one lane and I encountered a few
ridiculous traffic lights on long timers. Dear reader, you might guess what I
did.
With about 2,000’ to go, I encountered a lively group riding
at a leisurely pace. It was a party on wheels, with about ten cyclists having a
blast, listening to music and joking around. I think I scared some of them as I
passed, though I tried to made sufficient noise. It felt good to occupy the
whole road for a minute, but I wanted to continue at my pace to the summit.
The rest of the climb was serene and uneventful, as the sky
got ever brighter in the other-worldly moonlit mountain range. The summit was a
bit anti-climatic, and after a quick minute break to eat my Clif bar, I headed
back down, this time with arm warmers on, since it was getting much cooler.
When I reached the big group, I turned around to join them for a short bit.
They were from Kalispell, and even though they had to work in the morning, they
were really enjoying their adventure. This group started at The Loop, so their
climb was a bit shorter. They had some good advice about how to find others for
a possible second time up the mountain and were exceedingly friendly and filled
with good cheer.
The descent was very slow—my mantra was that it’s better
that it’s a slow descent than my last descent. Managing the road construction
was much tougher on the descent, and I was riding the brakes quite a bit, which
left my shoulder and neck muscles really tense. I was actually relieved when
the road finally leveled out, and just powered my way back to the safety of the
car.
On the way back to the campground, I stopped by Apgar
Village briefly to upload my ride to Strava. I was pleasantly surprised that I
snagged the KOM for the HC climb, and with that happy thought I hopped into the
tent at around 2:30 am in hopes of getting a little sleep before the morning
arrived. I hope to do the climb one more time, maybe on Thursday starting from
Avalanche.
No comments:
Post a Comment