Beartooth Adventure Part I

There is nothing sexier then a cute woman handling a fatty bike wheel.  And there she was and I needed to stop starring and go help unload the snow bike.  We arrived pretty late as per usual and we needed to get down the trail a bit before setting up our first camp of the long weekend.

The trail started off innocently enough. I usually find a extremely large amount of anticipation before an adventure.  The unknown. The beauty.  To me like a Christmas morning for a child.  I couldn’t wait to unwrap our adventure.

And … if you can find a friend that enjoys the same thing … go with it. I mean go for all of it.  For me I am lucky to have a partner that interestingly enough wants to push her bike for days on end and lounge around a campfire at night.  And so we were off.

Within literally 20 pedal strokes we were neck deep in shrubs and stream crossings.  Ok, now I understand why most of Alaska is unavailable for travel. That is why I like the Beartooths, because it is like Alaska as I remember.  For some reason the thin air up near 10 grand intoxicates you and we just stumbled along dumbly … silently.

I finally broke the silence and reported that this weekend would probably be all bike walking. I needed to gauge my friends enjoyment level.  I looked back down a hill that I tried to climb but succumb to falling off my large fat bike. What did I see?  A large smile. That is all I needed and continued down the trail.

It had been only a tad over 2 miles when the sun started to set and we came upon a beautiful lake. In fact it was called Beauty lake.  To us though, after a couple hours pushing the bike, it was home.  At least for the night. The rest was a blur, not because I cant remember what went down but due to the conditions that the Beartooths are famous for.  A storm blew in and it was all we could do to hang out food and dive for the tent before it hit.  And hit it did, all night.

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