Why Do All the Good Roads Run Out of Asphalt?

Successful long ride yesterday. Sixty miles in four hours - exactly what I was going for. To bad I ended up having to improvise most of the miles since Google Maps forgot to mention that many of the roads I mapped out to ride AREN'T PAVED. The plan, as it was at the beginning, was to start by riding five miles east to Marshall Mountain for my usual wake-up call (aka steep climb) that I have made a habit of including at the beginnings of my long rides. Then head back west to town before going eight miles north to the Snowbowl, another local ski resort. After that I was to descend most of the way back to town before turning west again and heading out to Frenchtown, fifteen miles west of Missoula. From Frenchtown I would head straight back.

That was not to be, however. The road to Snowbowl turned into dirt and gravel just a few miles out of town and well before connecting to the road which would have taken me to Frenchtown. After some creative backtracking and exploration I ended up on another road I had been looking for, only to find it running out of blacktop as well! Then, reacquainting myself with my directions, I followed them right up to the point where they dumped me on a highway. Not an interstate, but nevertheless a 55mph highway with lots of semi trucks. I politely declined the invitation to do vehicular combat with speeding trucks (a decision which does not diminish my pride or ego at all, which was--let's face it--a factor under consideration). So I moved on to Plan B. Or Plan E, as the case may be. In any case, long story short, I managed to trickle my tires across a full 60 miles of Western Montana hardtop, and even managed to have a little fun doing it. Because, and apologies in advance to Mr. Kenneth Grahame, but there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about on a bike!

A couple pictures for you:

Looking forward.

Looking back.

Too bad this wonderful road turned into dirt in less than a quarter-mile from where I took these photos.

And in other news, I was awoken last night around midnight (having very happily and successfully passed out before 10pm) by a troop of Irish step dancers in full performance mode on the corrugated plastic porch roof outside my window. That's right - it was hailing! It hailed for the better part of an hour, I'd guess. Nothing big, but nevertheless quite insistent and loud. I really must have some sort of affinity for hail this year, or perhaps better stated that hail has an affinity for me. Nationals, the mountain bike ride a few weeks ago, and now this! Absurd.