Never trust unsolicited advice

Or any advice, for that matter. It's all wrong.

I spent most of Wednesday morning riding around the edge of the peninsula I camped on last night. The local woman who I talked to yesterday suggested that it would be a nicer, more scenic way to get back to 200, since hardly anyone drives on it. It is beautiful-- sometime I am going to spend about a week kayak camping on the islands in Lake Pend Oreille-- and there are hardly any cars. This could be due to the fact that it is a FREAKING DIRT ROAD! Thanks for the heads up, lady. It is moderately well maintained, and would be really fun to ride if I had mountain bike tires and no gear. Sadly, this is not my situation. I manage to ride most of it, and only have to get off and walk at a couple of the hairier spots. I also take a mile-long detour uphill on a more gravelly road-- walking almost the whole way-- because my GPS device says there is a park up there, and I gamble that maybe they have facilities, and I can refill my water, but there is no park.

I finally reach 200 and it sucks. There is little or no shoulder for the majority of it. I knew I should have been suspicious of that guy's route info when I couldn't find the campground he told me about in Sandpoint. The only way I can keep myself from going back there and kicking his ass like rock death is to keep telling myself "wow, 2 must be REALLY bad if *this* is the good route." But really, I don't think it is possible that 2 has even less shoulder than this. I continue on to Clark Fork, where the senile or sadistic cyclist told me I could camp. Google has also told me there are several RV parks in the area, so I should be good. I pass a campground about 8 miles before town, but continue, as I am not ready to call it a day yet, and because I really want some food in town. I have plenty, but I am craving a sandwich. I pass the Ace Hardware store without replacing that bolt on my front rack because there is (according to Google) a bike shop in town, and I can replace it there, and ask about camping while I'm in the shop.

There is no bike shop, and nowhere to camp in town. I ask about half the people in town about camping. They hem and haw in a friendly way, but come up empty. It seems that tonight's criteria of a toilet (sometimes a lady wants a bathroom!) and drinking water are a little too demanding. The RV Park, whose sign advertises "RV Hookups, Campsites, Showers," does not have campsites. The guy there suggests that perhaps the hotel will let me put up a tent on their lawn. Nope. The man at the hotel tells me of a place outside of town where I can camp for free. I ask hopefully about bathrooms. Nope. "But there won't be anyone out there," he says. I grit my teeth and tell myself he has no way of knowing that shyness is not why I want a bathroom. Too frustrated and irritated to even consider staying at the hotel, I give up on my fantasy of staying near a toilet for the night. I refill my water and use the bathroom at the hotel, then head out. I find the spot, which turns out to be a fishing hole of some sort, and of course, the crowning glory is the lack of cell phone service. I can't even call someone to whine about my day. Oh, that's right, part of the reason I wanted to stay on 2 was because AT&T's coverage map made it look like the service was fairly good along that highway! Ack, why did I come this way? It will be another two or three days before I am back on 2. I bawl like a baby the whole time I put up my tent. I thought I was done, but then three mosquitoes bit me while I was writing this, and the tears started again. I hide in my tent because I'm already gross and sweaty and sunblocky, and I don't want to add bug gunk to the mix just yet. At least I'm not spending any money. And the weather was really nice with hardly any wind.

This will make me extremely wary about changing my plans at the suggestion of a seemingly kindly and informed stranger in the future.

Riding was fine today. It's cloudy, but not too windy. After about five miles on the hated 200 I reach Montana. Yay! The road doesn't improve, but it feels like an accomplishment. I've reached another time zone! I'm still feeling tired and not-so-super, so I don't make it that far today before stopping at an RV Park for the night. It's a really nice place, near water and surrounded by trees, and when I tell the woman running the place that I am not feeling well and plan to stay for two days, she gives me a sickie discount. I show my gratitude by paying in cash. Maybe I'll even pay to do some laundry while I'm here. They have those sweet side-loading washers that save water.

I am completely shocked that I have service here. I checked at a store that is probably about half a mile away, on 200, and I had nothing, but here I have four bars. Maybe because it is close to a reservoir that has a couple of towns on the other side of it.

I've instituted a mandatory policy of one day off after three days of riding, so I'm taking tomorrow off. I may not post, and I don't know how my service will be while heading up 56, so it may be a couple of days before you hear from me again. (Just a warning, so no one frets!)