Barbara’s Llama Ranch to Basin I had mixed feelings about this day, and it was one reason I decided to stay an extra day at the Llama ranch. I was excited to get back on the road, but didn’t want to leave the oasis of the Llama ranch. Also, the route for today was statistically the hardest yet. The morning greeted me with a light rain, and looking at the weather, it was supposed to stop around 10. So, never one to pass up a chance to dawdle—I did. I said my heartfelt goodbyes to Barb and John, sincerely hoping I will see them again. I had met another cyclist the day before—Fabio from Belgium—and we decided to ride together for the first 30 miles, when he would head to Helena and I would do a route called the “Rimini alternate”. Despite our dawdling, the rain persisted so we grudgingly pushed off about 9:30. The roads pretty quickly became rather rough and muddy—like pedaling through syrup. The company and conversation helped the miles go by easier, and despite the rain and marginal road conditions we enjoyed the ride, and saw a real Montana cattle drive, many old mining sites, and a bushy fox. We arrived at our parting point—still in the rain—and exchanged contact information grateful for the moral support and a little sad to be pushing ahead alone. I forged ahead still through a steady rain that I was convinced would subside. I took shelter under trees on a few occasions when the rain would come down even harder. The road conditions degraded from marginal to bad to simply awful. The miles crawled by, matching my pace. I began to doubt if I could make it to Basin by dark. At this point it was clear to me that this had simply become one of those days to endure—to put my head down and doggedly push through. I just kept going almost robot-like, pushing through the mud and rocks and lifting my bike over logs. Everything was wet, and I had a very difficult time opening my phone to check navigation. I eventually simply followed previous bike tracks, depending on my phone to tell me if I was “off route”. I finally made it to the top of the final climb—marking over 7000 feet for the day—thinking I would get a rest of sorts and depend on gravity to get me to Basin. Alas, the road conditions remained awful and the slog continued while the miles crawled by slowly. I finally arrived in Basin cold, wet and muddy. It was 7:50–I had spent 9 hours in the saddle for the day. I was hoping the only restaurant in town was still serving. At that moment, a gentleman standing outside the bar stepped in to help. Perhaps he saw the fatigue on my face, or he simply enjoys helping people. Regardless, he went into the restaurant and asked if they could still serve me, told me where I could stay and how to get the code to the community center that welcomes cyclists, and made sure I got settled in the restaurant. I am embarrassed I didn’t even get his name, but his kindness was amazing, and much needed at that moment. I can’t thank him enough! Dinner came out quickly—about the time I had changed out of my wet shirts and put my puffy coat on—and I stared blankly into the plate while devouring what was there. Slowly I relaxed and warmed, and was able to process what was in front of me: avocado burger, tater tots and a root beer. Then, to process the day: through the mud, rain, rocks and logs I did it. It sucked, but I endured and ticked off the toughest day so far. I’ll do it again if necessary. I was grateful for a dry place to sleep, a body that still works, and for random people willing to help someone they dont even know. I’m grateful I get to do this even though today was hard, and part of what makes an adventure like this “all time”.