Trans Am 2017 Day 6: Bannack State Park, MT to Cameron, MT — 110 Miles, +3,974 ft

12 min readNov 3, 2017

Sleeping outside is one of the most pleasant experiences you can have, regardless of whether you are racing or backpacking or camping, but, as stated earlier, it’s an inefficient way to get sleep in cold temperatures. I woke up at a couple points in the night from the cold and shifted around, trying to get the short bivvy to stay above my shoulders. Even so, I woke fully with the sun casting pastels across the sky above the Beaverhead mountains, feeling well slept and decently energized. I’d been down for maybe 4.5 hours but hadn’t slept constantly, but at that point it was more than enough, and I wanted to move quickly so that my parents and family — who were two hours ahead on the east coast and undoubtedly already checking the tracker — wouldn’t worry. This, along with the cold, got me back on the road quickly.

A look back on the Beaverheads on the approach into Dillon

I was good on water but a little low on food, so I tackled the short climb (kicked myself a bit for not getting over the wee thing the night before!) a couple miles down the road and looked forward to devouring some food at the Safeway in Dillon. The ride there was shorter than I remembered, and I was stoked to roll through the familiar town and hit the Safeway. I’d wasted a lot of time there the year before (part of the reason my sis and I were arguing that day) and this year would be no different. I was a bit spent from the night/morning and needed a quick sit down. I crushed breakfast burritos and got a sandwich to go, as well as a tea from the Starbucks. I’d had some stomach discomfort the previous day after a coffee, and wondered if that would be a trend so wanted to try something different. It wouldn’t, but the tea was tasty anyway and I sat inhaling food. I knew I should be eating and recovering on the bike, but this kind of needed to happen at that moment.

I finally got back on the road and Ken wasn’t too far behind. Anthony had been stopped all morning in Jackson, and I figured he unfortunately had pulled the plug. A trail of racers like Randall Rice and Hippy Hippy were not far behind Ken, so I knew I had to keep moving. At this point I was the leading edge of the third bunch, with a gap between me and riders like Bo Dudley and Luke Kocher. The ride to Twin Bridges is as beautiful as any in Montana, and I was feeling stoked. I remembered passing Sarah on this stretch last year and was pretty impressed with myself that her time was the equivalent of me passing through Dillon the evening before. Sarah is a righteous savage, and being even within a day of her blistering pace was flattering.

When I was in eighth grade, I passed through the Dillon area with my mom and we hit as many Lewis and Clark monuments as possible. I got all nostalgic the year before going through this area, and this year I got nostalgic about both that time with my mom and the year before with my sis. Certainly a part of me wanted to indulge in those memories more, but, if I wasn’t going to do that, it felt good to be doing those times right by going as hard as I could in the race this time through. I rolled through Twin Bridges without any stopping, but was suffering on my way out of town (for whatever reason, I think I was tired..) enough to call my mom and whine for a bit. I spun my way through Sheridan, remembering the stretch where we saw Steffen, and on my way to Alder.

The wind started to pick up on my way there (into my face, obviously), and I called Luke to see how things were looking up the road. As soon as we connected all I could hear was a massive, massive wind in the microphone. Then I hear him scream “Max!!!” Holy shit he was in a battle. We chatted for a few minutes about how bad the wind was on the stretch from Ennis to West Yellowstone, and I couldn’t believe how much ground I had made up on that group while they battled it out in the wind. Luke was going anywhere from 5–8 miles per hour and working his tail off. He wasn’t even close to where the road turns east to Quake Lake, and I felt a little encouraged that there was a slowdown up the road, but not excited that I would soon be taking it on. In the minutes we talked, I could feel the headwind building as I got closer to Alder.

While I packed my food after a quick stop in Alder, Ken rode by me and hollered “Come on, Max!” I appreciated the joy that was coming from a rider who had otherwise been pretty reserved, so I hustled to get on the road and catch him. Ken was taking it easy so I caught him in a few moments. We rode together and chatted, and I learned a bit about the dude who I’d been riding near the entire race. He told me about where he was from, what he did, all that good stuff. I think these were our first words exchanged. He’d laid a plan out to get to Yorktown in 21 days, and was thus pretty excited that we were well ahead of that pace, as was I.

Andrew Suzuki’s post in the facebook group about which racers had done the most miles through May of 2017 featured Ken Ray’s name proudly at the top, so I’d thought since then that this dude must be strong and recognized his name from the first time I saw it near me on the tracker. Despite all his miles logged, he also had never done an event like this and had never biked over 200 miles. That’s about where our similarities ended, though. Ken is from D.C. and is built like a mannequin in a bike shop window (just kidding I don’t think they have these) and looks like he runs his local club. I, on the other hand, was wearing Ray Bans. Again, he smashed his goals and pushed himself super hard, so huge props to Ken for that.

I didn’t need anything in Virginia City but he did. I told him there isn’t a gas station in VC, which he thought there was, but that there are a couple odd shops and restaurants where he could get some food. VC is a weird tourist stop so they have weird stuff. I was glad to leave him behind and settle into the climb to Ennis.

The previous year with Amy, we met our uncle Barney at the top of this climb and dropped into Virginia City for an ice cream. He was driving to Seattle for his daughter’s wedding while we were biking there, and we were all extremely excited to cross paths. The hour with Barney was easily one of the highlights of the whole ride that year. I remembered these good times when I crested the top and looked at the spot where we had first ran into each other. Going through this thousand mile stretch of familiar territory was both exciting and sad, as this time through I was engulfed in a mound of suffer and loneliness, but also having an incredibly good, intense time. I was doing in one day what we did in two or three, and was so excited and happy to go through the familiar, stunningly beautiful territory.

Partly to delay the suffer of the wind, I stopped for an ice cream after getting my snacks in Ennis. The woman at the gas station had pointed me to an ice cream place across the street, but it turned out to be more soft served and pretty shitty. Oh well. I was hurting a bit from my lack of good sleep as well, but the sit down helped. I sat down and ate, and while I did Ken rode by.

I got on the road leaving Ennis and the wind was that bad. I pushed tops 10 mph into 25 mph wind and a slight uphill. Luke had told me that the wind gets worse as you go, so I knew it would only get stronger. Gusts were up to 35 mph (I think that’s what the weather app said) and it was pretty gnar, but you pretty much either have two choices in these situations. You dig deep, come to peace with it, and get focused, or you wallow and feel sorry for yourself. It’s like a climb where you just have to say “OK, I’m going to be biking at slow speeds here,” and enjoy it. I chatted with my sister Emily as I went and she laughed at the sound of the wind. Soon the figure of Ken emerged up the road and I was excited to pass him in this gnar with a smile on my face. I rode up behind him and saw the suffer all over his body.

He picked up the speed when I passed and kept pretty close as we approached Cameron. I knew I would be stopping and reassessing my plan once we got there, and was relieved when the Blue Moon Saloon rolled into view. We both paused and made our respective phone calls to help us decide, and I hoped Ken would get out of there soon so I wouldn’t be tempted to try and stay ahead of him.

It had taken me a little over an hour to go the ten miles from Ennis to Cameron, and I had 30 miles of the same, likely even stronger, headwind until the hill into Quake Lake, and another 40 from there to West Yellowstone of really bad wind. All reports ahead were that winds eased slightly after Quake Lake, but not much, and it was taking people 7 or 8 hours or more to do the 80 mile stretch from Ennis to West Yellowstone. I felt really strong and was enjoying the grind, but I had to be smart.

For weeks, my dad had been suggesting that once I got to Kansas, where winds were your biggest obstacle (mm, that and a couple other things), I should focus on riding when the wind was down. I thought this was a nice idea, but felt like you have maybe 4 or 5 hours of down time to sleep every day and can’t be that selective about it. Sometimes you just have to battle wind. But here I was, with an opportunity to sleep through it. The time was 4:30 in the afternoon and the winds were projected to drop steadily around 9, and be almost quiet by 10. I knew how hard Luke had suffered, and I’d also paid close attention to the tracker and saw riders like Bo taking the majority of the day to make it, so I knew that if I decided to go on, I had a major slog ahead. There was a restaurant about 25 miles up the road as well as a rest stop and convenience store after Quake Lake and campgrounds scattered along the way, so I wouldn’t have issues getting resupplies even if I didn’t make it to West Yellowstone before sleep. But, did it make any sense to grind it out in the wind for 7 more hours like everyone when I could shift my sleeping time forward, wait it out in Cameron, and rip through this familiar stretch without any wind while everyone else faded and slept? The guys behind me were a couple hours back in Virginia City, so would no doubt catch me if I slept, but they wouldn’t make up much ground, if any.

I thought back to my phone calls with Luke and just how shattered he had been on this stretch. I called my dad to consult and he thought this was a great idea. I questioned myself as much as I could to make sure this was a decision made out of strategy and strength, not weakness and looking for a reason to take my foot off the gas. Often Dad knows best, and I agreed that I would get my first shower of the race, eat some real food, and sleep a couple of really good hours. If anything were to happen while I tried to make up ground — a flat, crash, bonk — it would be massively demoralizing and it would be really hard to get back to the place I had been. Hope for the best!

Ken had clearly been debating the same thing, but he ended up heading down the road. I went inside, paid for a shower and was directed to where I could sleep a couple of hours in the grass. I sat at the bar and ordered a juicy cheeseburger, then went to shower while my food was cooking.

I didn’t have any soap, but my first shower of the race was game changing. I felt incredible and washed my jersey in the warm water. It was so dry and windy that it dried out in no time when I hung it up during my nap. 6 days worth of filth slid off my body and I felt energized as I dried off and went to devour my burger. I was reminded of another pre race resolution I had made — to shower or clean myself in some way every night before bed — knowing how energizing it can be. I wished that I’d done so the previous nights, but knew that the pace, focus, and fervor with which I had been racing didn’t allow for that, so I was OK with it. I told myself to shower when I could going forward, but not to get too attached to it.

My burger was sublime and I inhaled the fries as well. Sitting at the bar for 20 minutes gave me a chance to shoot the shit with the drunk locals and they loved chatting about the race, how far we went each day, and where we were going. These guys were rad, and I had a great time hanging with them for a few, especially since they were hammered and it was only 5 pm. I finished my burger, paid, and went into the convenience store to get snacks for when I woke up. The woman running the place was incredibly nice, and we chatted while I shopped. She offered to leave out a coffee for me when I got up and said I could charge my devices in there while I slept. She said they closed at ten but she wouldn’t lock up the place unless I had come back in for my coffee and electronics since I planned to leave by closing time of 10 PM. What a hero!

I got my goodies and headed off into the grass with my bike to sleep, feeling clean, strong, and smart while the wind continued to rip through the campground. I’d taken an hour to do everything, and it would be another 30 minutes before I could get to sleep in the light of day, but when I woke up a little before 10 I felt well rested and stoked to get on my bike.

Trans Am 2017 Intro

Trans Am Day 1: Astoria, OR to McKenzie Bridge, OR

Trans Am Day 2: McKenzie Bridge, OR to Prairie City, OR

Trans Am Day 3: Prairie City, OR to Council, ID

Trans Am Day 4: Council, ID to Lochsa Lodge, ID

Trans Am Day 5: Lochsa Lodge, ID to Bannack State Park, MT

Trans Am Day 6: Bannack State Park, MT to Cameron, MT

Trans Am Day 7: Cameron, MT to Lander, WY

Trans Am Day 8: Lander, WY to Cowdrey, CO

Trans Am Day 9: Cowdrey, CO to Alma, CO

Trans Am Day 10: Alma, CO to Haswell, CO

Trans Am Day 11: Haswell, CO to Ness City, KS