We did a great job getting out of the Hamilton City Center Motel early and were on the road at sunup. There was already a ton of traffic on the road but at least for the first 2 miles we got to be on a sideroad before we had to get on the main highway. We were grateful when we realized shortly after we got on the main highway that we only had to be on it for a very short time because there was a bike path that goes from Hamilton the way to the town of Lolo, and even on to Missoula after that. So we were super stoked to be riding on a bike path, down the gorgeous Bitterroot Valley, and with a nice decline, beautiful sunrise and early morning views. We went through the little towns of Victor, Stevensville, and Florence before we hit Lolo town. in Stevensville we stopped and got an espresso to share and bagels and cream cheese for each of us before continuing on. But shortly after Stevensville the bike path turned to shit and there were huge 2 to 3 inch cracks in the pavement every 20 feet or so and it was extremely jarring. It was so bad that after probably 5 miles of that we got back onto the busy highway and rode on the shoulder which, though it had a little bit of debris, was not too bad. We stayed on the highway shoulder for a number of miles with cars and trucks passing within 2-3 feet of us at 70 miles an hour and it was extremely loud and not very fun, but that’s how bad the bike path was! About 2 miles before the town of Lolo, we decided to get back onto the bike path because the path seem to be better when you were near or in a town than between towns. And then….literally 1/4 mile before we hit low though, I got a flat tire. On the bike path!!?!?!? I was so afraid of getting a flat tire from the truck/car/rock debris on the side of an extremely busy highway and then I got a flat on the bike path. What a pisser. But, given that we had to make a decision in Lolo anyway because we needed to get 8 miles beyond Lolo to Petco to get Maui’s dog food and then turn around and come back those 8 miles to Lolo before heading up the road for the climb up Lolo Pass, our decision was made by my flat tire. I would stay in Lolo and fix the flat tire while Vanesa rode her bike to the south end of Missoula to get the dog food and then ride back. (Before the flat tire, my plan had been to try to hitchhike those 8 miles there and 8 miles back in order to save either of us having to ride extra miles.) So it was an extra 16 miles for her and an extra bike disassembly, flat tire repair, and bike reassembly for me. Fortunately the flat tire happened right next to a baseball field in the town of Lolo, and since the only place that provided any shade was the dugout, I wheeled my bike over to the dugout. I had a bench to put all my things on, for the dog to lay on, and for me to sit down on. And then I fixed the flat tire right there inside the dugout. There happened to be a fire station next door so when I pumped up my flat tube and I was unable to find the source of the leak, I just walked next-door to the fire station and they let me fill up a sink full of water and submerge the tune determine where the leak was so I knew where to put the patch. Awesome! I patched the flat tire, got the bike reassembled, and then walked a quarter-mile with the dog leash and Vanesa‘s panniers in one hand and rolling my bike with the other. We waited for her at the Conoco gas station in the shade and it was only about 20 minutes before she arrived. She made amazing time! She had a downhill ride 8 miles to get to Petco that took 45 minutes, and even though it was a slight incline on the way back a pretty good tailwind whipped up and so it only took her 30 minutes to return! So, despite the flat tire and the extra miles, we had everything done that we needed to do by about 12:30 pm! Now we had 32 miles to ride from Lolo town up the hill to the summit of Lolo Pass, and then about another 8 miles after that was Lochsa Lodge where we thought we might be able to make it to camp for the night. And if we didn’t make it that fat, there are also several campgrounds prior to the summit on the road up Lolo Pass. So we headed to the grocery store in Lolo town and picked up supplies to last us the next several days since we knew it would be in remote territory for about 100 miles and would need to have all the food we needed on the bike In this remote area with no convenience stores or restaurants. We set off toward Lolo pass and it was a nice, gentle incline we knew we would have for the first 25-ish miles and it wouldn’t get steep until about the last 5 to 7 miles. And then suddenly, 3 miles outside of the town of Lolo PPPPSSSSSSSSS. I felt my suddenly rim on the pavement and realized my tire had no air. This was no gradual loss of air - it was an immediate blowout. Shit! We found a driveway 0.1 mile from where I got the flat; it was a difficult walk moving my loaded bike that distance, rolling on the front tire and keeping the back of the bike lifted off the ground so the tire sidewall wouldn’t get shredded rolling it when it was completely flat. I disassembled the bike once again and flipped it over to pull the tire out to see where it had failed. As it turns out, apparently I hadn’t done a very good job of patching the my flat that morning because the tube had failed at the patch site. The edge of the patch looked like it was folded under on itself a bit, and when I gently tried to peel it back to look underneath, because the patch was (ironically) so well-affixed to the tube, it ripped the tube itself and put a big hole there, big enough that the tube was now unsalvageable. But no big deal…I had two more spare tubes in my bags. I pulled out a spare brand new tube, put it in the tire, put the tire on the wheel, attached pump to the tube valve, and started pumping; when I got the pressure up to where I like to ride at 52 PSI, I took the pump off. But there was a little bit of a hop in the tire when I spun it, indicating that the tire was not seated perfectly on the rim and I needed to get the tire better-seated. Knowing that a common trick in the bike industry when the tire’s not seated properly is to overinflate it a little bit to help the area that’s not seated quite right pop into place, I kept pumping. And even though my tire takes a maximum pressure of 75, when I got to 60 we heard the pop. Woo hoo! But it wasn’t the right pop. It wasn’t the tire popping perfectly into place; no, in fact, it was the brand new tube inside blowing up. It took a minute to figure out why the new tube wouldn’t take any air but when I pulled the tire and tube off the rim again, we saw that the tube had about a 5 inch gash in it where it had failed!! (This is definitely a defective tube, not me inflated it to a pressure that is greater than what it can tolerate.) So it was annoying, but, hey, I had another spare, right? The second spare, however, was a tube that had had a flat once before and had been patched, but I had patched it in a hotel room when I had access to a bathtub and let me find exactly where the hole was and really get a nice patch on it. And I threw it back in my bike bag as a spare for just such situation as this. So I threw this final spare tube into the tire and pumped it up and everything was perfect!! So Vanesa and I reassembled all the gear on the bike and got ready to leave. And when I went to roll the bike out to the road, I looked down and the tire was flat again. Fuck fuck fuck fuck! I wanted to scream and I wanted to cry! It must’ve been that the patched area on this tube failed as well. I just didn’t understand, though. I know how to patch flat tires. I’ve been doing it for years. I have patched tubes and then ridden for them on years without getting out another flat. So why suddenly am I inept patching tires?? Well, anyway, now we were screwed. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, we’re 20 miles from the nearest bike shop in Missoula, which is in the wrong direction, and I can’t even ride there. Only Vanesa has a working bike but our bikes have different-sized wheels so I can’t use one of her spare tubes. One kind lady had driven by us while we were trying to repair the flat and she stopped and said that she had driven by several times and because we were still there she wanted to make sure that we were all right. At that point we had been all right because we were on tube #2, so we told her thanks and that we didn’t need any help. But she said that if we needed anything, we could just come to the house with the white garage just up the street. So at this point, with me having no other options other than hitchhike to Missoula to look for tubes at the bike shop, Vanesa rode up the street to the house with the white garage to see if the lady could help us. When she got there, an old man came outside and turns out Vanesa had the wrong house, but that didn’t matter. She briefly told him the story and this gentleman, this trail angel, name Richard agreed to take me to Missoula. Two minutes later I was in Richard’s car, and he drove me 20 miles to a bike shop that I found on Google Maps; when I walked in and asked them for the three tubes of the size I needed, the guy said “I just happen to have three left”. I bought all three tubes and rushed back to the car, not wanting to delay and take any more of this kind man’s time than necessary. He then drove me back to where Vanesa was waiting and it couldn’t have been any more than an hour. This was literally the best case scenario, and once I had fresh tubes, I repaired the flat and we proceeded on up the road toward Lolo Pass. Any thought we had had of getting up and over the pass and dropping down the beautiful descent on the other side to Lochsa Lodge had evaporated. Now we were just trying to make it 22 miles to Lolo Hot Springs where we could camp at the base of the 7-mile climb. But as we were rolling up the valley and it was getting hotter and hotter and there were rain and thunderstorms threatening, we decided when we got to Lolo Creek Campground that that was where we needed to stop for the night. It was a $15 rustic campsite, and though it was up the hill and all the way at the back of the campground, it was right next to the bear box and right next to the water spigot, and pretty close to the outhouse. It wasn’t a fancy campground, but it WAS a beautiful place in the woods to pitch our tent and get a good night’s sleep. (And if not for Richard, who KNOWS where we’d have ended up!) We ate tortillas, pinto beans, and Colby Jack cheese rolled up into cold burritos for dinner. And then we put all of our food, scented items, and the clothes that we ate in into the bear box and bedded down for the night to sleep comfortably, feeling very fortunate.