Hi-Line Living: Biking across America

I allow traveling strangers to stay in my apartment with me.

Through Internet sites like Warm Showers and Couch Surfing, anyone traveling through the area can obtain my phone number and request to stay with me. A Pakistani lived with me for three days recently. Every single other person, save the one longboarder, is a cyclist.

Havre is at a strategic point on the Northern Tier route of adventure cycling. The route runs from Anacortes, Washington, to Bar Harbor, Maine, though many cyclists deviate from this path to make their own routes, especially on the ends.

To get through Montana from east to west or west to east, there are three paths. The Northern Tier route runs along the Hi-Line, through Glacier National Park. The Lewis and Clark Trail goes through Missoula and forks, taking cyclists either to Bozeman and Billings or to Great Falls. All three of the routes join back together, or split apart depending on which direction the biker is going, in Glendive.

Since I signed up for the hosting services around six weeks ago, I have hosted a myriad of cyclists. Single riders, couples, groups of friends and one 20-year-old who was actually going across the country on a longboard have stayed with me. A longboard!

Cyrus Chimento, Graham Martin-Poteet and Keene Kelderman all recently graduated from St. Mary's College of Maryland in May and then embarked on their bike ride across North America.

They decided to go from "point to point," starting at the Washington Monument in Washington, D.C., and ending up at the Space Needle in Seattle.

They said they have things lined up for them to do when they get back home, but this was the perfect time to take a trip like this.

Poteet and Chimento were bicycle mechanics during college and this was something they always wanted to do. They hiked and traveld during school breaks and, during one of the car rides back, they came up with the idea of riding bikes across America.

Many cyclists choose a cause to ride for. These three friends chose Conservation International, which focuses on environmental protection and sustainability.

These three were the first to stay with me. They were all over 6-foot tall and dressed in matching cycling uniforms with "St. Mary's College" emblazoned on the front. The sweat smell was effluvial, to put it lightly. I had flashbacks to my high school football locker room.

All three were vegetarians. One was gluten-intolerant, but was trying to eat oatmeal during the trip. So far, so good, he said.

The worst part of their trip was Montana roads, they said. I have asked each of the around 20 people who have stayed with me what the worst part of the trip was and almost unanimously, the answer has been Montana roads.

The cyclists try to stay on the shoulders of the roads to stay out of the way of oncoming and passing vehicles. In Montana, some of the shoulders are just wide enough to house the rumble strips, so oftentimes, the cyclists will have to ride on the road. If they take the rumble strip, they run the risk of damaging their bicycles in the middle of Nowhere, Montana.

The second-worst part for the boys' westward trip was passing by farms and ranches, they said. It was painful for them to see suffering animals and know they couldn't do anything for them, they said.

Bikers carry as light a load as possible. Ten pounds make a big difference when traveling long-distance on a bike. They carry very minimal food, a tent, civilian clothes, tools, utensils - the basics for what they need along the way.

As far as lodging goes, they use websites like the ones I am a member of. They camp, otherwise - unless they treat themselves to a hotel room, but that gets expensive on a 60-day trip so they're rented sparingly. Those who stay in hotel rooms were often subtly looked down upon by the cyclists who have stayed with me. They called them "credit card tourists."

Very rarely did the cyclists not fall into one of two categories: recent or current college student or retiree. Finding the time to take a trip like this is an exercise in itself.

Clive Standley is over 53 and was cycling from Washington back to his home - Boston. By the time he stayed with me, he had been on the road for 19 days. He is an optical engineer. He insisted that he pay me in beer for letting me stay with him.

You'd be hard-pressed to find a touring cyclists without a blog. It's a way for people back home to check up on them and see how they're doing, or where they are. Some use them to push the cause they're riding for. Standley did have a blog, but not a cause. He said he rode for himself. It's his vacation.

It's interesting to watch these blogs to see what the cyclists have to say about you.

Clive's blurb about his stay in Havre reads:

"Last night I went out to the Oxfords Sports Bar with John Paul and met some of his friends. Well one beer led to two and finally to three. At $3 a pint it's a bit too easy to drink in MT."

Hosting cyclists is mostly pleasant. During cycling season, they are many and you learn to trust calls from unknown numbers.

Some of them want to buy you a beer and talk. Some want to wind down, take a shower and go to bed. As a demographic, they are some of the most open-minded, polite groups I have ever met. I think traveling the country in such a vulnerable, up-front-and-center way fosters that kind of behavior. They meet many people from many backgrounds in many places in a way those in a car can't experience.

On that note, a few of them asked me to ask my readers if they wouldn't get so mad when they have to pass cyclists on the road. They hope people learn to be courteous to and cautious around cyclists they encounter.

Everyone is on these roads to arrive somewhere.

Cyclists, however, already have arrived - every day they experience the miles and towns of America.