Tough As Nails

"Geez, by the end of this trip, you'll be as tough as nails," said the man sitting at the convenience store table next to ours. "Hmm," I thought. "I like that."

I sure didn't feel "as tough as a nail" as I sipped my coffee cocoa (hot chocolate with 1/4 to a 1/2 full of coffee) and whimpered at the fog and frigid wind I could see and hear out the window.

Earlier that morning, we rolled over twice and then turned on our headlamps, only able to see our breath. Uh-oh. In a frenzy, we grabbed whatever clothes we had nearby and piled them on in an effort to ease the transition out of our cozy sleeping bags and into the cold darkness. I rose from the tent first to a black sky with more stars than I've seen in awhile, yet I think it was close to 6:30 am, 40 miles east of Missoula, Montana. I walked the short distance over to our bikes and found everything, EVERYTHING, covered in ice and sparkling back at me by the light of my headlamp. My spoon was frozen to my frisbee plate. The stove was frozen to the picnic table. Our water was frozen. I didn't dare open my rear panniers or move my bike afraid it might break. I stood frozen too until we decided to throw everything on the bikes just to get to the gas station one mile down the road.

Ahhh....the luxuries of bicycle touring. An hour after nursing our coffee cocoas and rearranging layers, we were, indeed, on the road and biking through a thick icy fog. I had two pairs of wool socks on my feet, toe warmers, arm warmers around my legs, gaiters, long spandex pants, fleece pants, rain pants, three layers on top, plus a rain jacket to break the wind, a hat, three pairs of gloves, my buff wrapped up over my head and around my face, a scarf, my biking glasses, and of course my helmet. Yep, I was ready and we were all looking ridiculous. Despite all that, the cold and wind still bit my cheeks, my toes turned to ice cubes in my shoes, and I adjusted quickly to one-handed cycling in order to stick the other hand in my pants, pocket, or just swing it from my side every 10 minutes to keep the feeling in my fingers.But by the first hill, I had a good core sweat going, so I knew I would make it and watching the frozen morning thaw and come to life was absolutely magical.

The fall days are warm, almost hot in the sun, but we can see winter coming. Since that first frosty morning, we've had a few more where we resorted to making dinner and breakfast in the tent in our sleeping bags. We have also biked over Lolo Pass in pouring rain and 40 degrees and biked through our first hail storm coming through the canyon between Helena and White Sulfur Springs, Montana. I've already done the hypothermia dance on the side of the road mid downhill, massaged Carolyn's toes back to life in the lobby of a hotel that we hadn't yet decided if we'd get a room there, and even cried a little because my cold feet hurt so badly.

So will we be as tough as nails? I don't know. I do know that we will be ready for ski season. :)

 -Em