Riding the Highway to the ‘Fun’
by Julie Ubben, Assistant Marketing Manager
Bicycle Adventures’ marketing staffers get to do trips, too — that way we’ll know what we’re talking about when you call! This summer, Assistant Marketing Manager Julie Ubben checked out the Glacier-Banff-Jasper tour.
August in the northern Rockies is warm, but not sweltering. Snow-capped peaks tower high on every side, slicing razor-sharp zigzags into the skyline. Plumes of bear grass and bushes of butter-yellow potentilla brighten the roadsides; on the slopes, bear and bighorn sheep munch on the local produce. And everywhere you go at this time of year, the huckleberry reigns — showing up in creations from milkshakes to martinis.
Did you know? BA is the only company that takes on the Big Three — Glacier, Banff, and Jasper national parks — in one go!
My sister and I chose the trip to Glacier, Banff and Jasper for our yearly ‘girl getaway.’ We’d never seen the area, but rumor had it the Northern Rockies resemble New Zealand’s Remarkables and Crown Range; rumor had it the area featured some of the country’s best riding. Rumor, in fact, made it sound positively seductive.
Prior to my time here at Bicycle Adventures, I knew nothing of the cycling in Montana’s Glacier National Park, specifically the magical, mystical Going-to-the-Sun Road. But it wasn’t long before I encountered — from guests and guides alike — a note of reverence when they spoke of legendary Logan Pass, also called the Highway to the Sun. “It’s a 21-mile climb...” they would say, their eyes suddenly misty and far, far away, their ability to converse halting abruptly. It was obvious that that road, that stretch of road, was an extremely Big Deal to cyclists in the know.
So curiosity about the Big Deal — and fear (“Climb 21 miles? That’s insane!”) — became the other deciding factors. And I, whose cycling motto was I Don’t Do Hills, now had great incentive to join some local bike club rides, go find a spin class, and attempt to figure out how to get a bike up a hill — while still riding it. All of which I promptly began doing.
And the reward turned out to be well worth every single sweaty spin class. The ride — The Ride — absolutely, hands-down, indisputably tops the list as my best day ever on a bicycle.
We tackled the legendary Going-to-the-Sun Highway after rising early and breakfasting on coffee, eggs and adrenaline. I’d pegged a couple of our guests to follow, thinking they might be kind, or gullible, and pull me up the hill — if not, bribery was a distinct possibility. They generally rode at about my speed, meaning slower than my triathlete sister, and traded chummy insults. Entertainment was a sure bet...if I could keep up.
Surprisingly, though, it wasn’t nearly as grueling as I feared: the guys showed me the trick is to find a comfortable gear, and just settle into an easy rhythm. There’s no need to charge up a 21-mile hill (unless you’re my sister). The pace doesn’t have to be excruciating. And it doesn’t hurt to have somebody along to chat with, either. If things get moving too fast, there’s always the old standby: “Wait! I want to take your picture right here!”
Since we pedal up the west side of the pass, the route was shaded for most of the morning. Fragrant cedar and hemlock formed a canopy overhead; emerald fern and the ubiquitous huckleberry filled out the understory. We pedaled on, and the road began to edge upward as a mossy hewn-rock border replaced the trees. Peek-a-boo views appeared, getting dreamier by the minute. As the road rose higher, we climbed serenely above the treeline. Bucolic valleys sliced the magnificent hills in two, pinning them with silver Logan Creek below; across from us, Bird Woman Falls cascaded hundreds of feet down Mt. Oberlin. The occasional marmot or mountain goat gazed at us placidly. Every-where we stopped, everywhere we looked, there was beauty. The climb? It was nothing like the beast I had feared, thanks to my fellow riders. At some point, I remember realizing that not only was I going to make it to the top; I was going to enjoy the whole thing.
It was with a thrill of utter accomplishment that I pedaled the last couple of miles to reach the summit and — icing on an already decadent cake! — cross the Continental Divide. Wow! Other members of the group met us at the entry sign — waving, clapping and cheering our arrival into the visitor’s center. At nearly 6,700 feet of elevation, I felt like I’d ridden to the top of the world. And I still had legs left!
Plenty of other things made it an extraordinary trip. My most overwhelming impression of the area is still one of profound awe: I had absolutely no idea mountains that big were in this part of the world. Each day’s riding did its best to outdo the day before, leaving us with a staggering sense of having gorged ourselves on scenery. I relished the panoramic views from Many Glacier Hotel; I savored a hike into the mountains above milky-blue Lake Louise. I had time to connect with my sister — when I could catch up with her!
All of these, plus a typically fascinating group of diverse, personable Bicycle Adventures guests make for marvelous memories. But the happy thought that tops them all for me, for this trip, is that morning’s ride up Going-to-the Sun Road.