The almost impossible almost ruined by the almost impossible

Everything looked like it was going in the right direction for the accomplishment of the unthinkable goal of riding from Seattle to Logan Pass in Glacier National Park by three riders aged 66, 67 and 70.

By Sunday, we had ridden 500 miles to get to Lake MacDonald in GNP. We had a festive meal in the lodge dining room (thank you, Barretts, for successfully sneaking your credit card to the waiter and telling the rest of us to "deal with it"). We got to sleep early and were early to rise.

Many miles of six percent grade

A quick breakfast in the lodge, and Mary Jo and Other John set off for Logan Pass -- 21 miles away and 3,300 feet above us. John Barrett was catching a ride from the RV camp with some other bike riders. All of us were getting started at about 7 a.m.

Bicycles can't ride on the Going to the Sun Road from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m., which meant we had to complete the climb in about four hours. That was going to be a challenge for the world's slowest uphill climber, none other than Other John on this ride.

But things looked good at 11 miles into the ride. We had plenty of time ahead of us to get done by 11, traffic had been light and the clothes we had on (arm and leg warmers plus windbreaker) had been right for the cool morning temperatures.

Traffic gets heavier as the day goes on.

I was going to stop to take off the windbreaker when Mary Jo shouted back that there was a bear on the road ahead. So I kept riding, and there were two cubs wrestling in the middle of the road and momma bear sauntering up ahead. We watched the bears for several minutes while I was thinking about how to ride past them or if following them up to the pass might be a better choice. Mostly I was fumbling through clothing to try to get the camera out (unsuccessfully except for on faraway shot of one cub).

We had one car ahead of us (thankfully between us and the bears) and lots of traffic stopped behind us before the bears went off into the woods. I had to pass a van on the left and soon after that the almost impossible happened.

Looking back down the Going to the Sun Road.

Careful readers of this blog (wishful thinking on the author's part) will remember that I was told Schwabel tires are almost impossible to go flat. "Almost" is the most important word in that sentence. My rear tire went flat right after the bear sighting, and I had visions of the headline in the Kalispell Daily Inter Lake: "Bear eats bicyclist struggling to change tire."

One thing is true of the Schwabel tires: They are almost impossible to change. If John Barrett had not shown up at that point and Mary Jo had not come back to help, I would still be trying to change that tire. But finally we got the tire off the rim, the tube in and the tire back on. The final piece of good luck and Good Samaritanship came when the Backroads SAG wagon stopped to let us use his foot pump. He also helped get the back wheel on and adjusted the brakes. (There were two bike tour groups doing the Logan Pass ride that morning.)

Up into the clouds.

By the time all that was complete, the notion of "plenty of time" before 11 a.m. was out the window -- or over the cliff. The world's slowest uphill climber had a challenge and had to be admonished by Mary Jo that stopping to take more pictures was not permitted. "Keep pedaling to the top."

Which I did. John arrived first. then Mary Jo and finally Other John. The SAG crew was there to welcome us, we took pictures but forgot to sing a song. Maybe we should go back.

That's almost impossible to consider.

Mary Jo arriving at Logan Pass in the fog.