The Art of Paying it Forward
I rolled up to the red light and spotted Carroll College across the intersection. I had made it to Helena. It was my turn-around point for the trip. Pulling my phone from my jersey pocket I searched for a grocery store and saw that the Real Food Market and Deli was a few blocks straight ahead. Minutes later, I was in the store’s parking lot. To my delight, right next door was Capitol Sports, a nice big sporting goods store. Perfect, I thought. I can buy a new water filter since mine is not working. (It was June 22nd, and it was hot. I had been travelin through cattle grazing pastures for the second half of the day and if there was ever a time to filter water, that was it.) These one-stop-shops are so very appreciated on a bikepacking trip when every minute spent off the bike quickly adds up, making the goal of logging big miles each day more challenging.
Once inside Real Food Market, I started filling my small cart. Rebbl Reishi Chocolate drink, bottled water, a Diet Coke, fried pork rinds, potato chips, Gummi Bears. The typical bikepackers diet.
As I was cruising the aisle in my bike clothes, a woman walked up to me and asked “Are you riding the Great Divide?”. Yes, I said, a little surprised that someone would know about the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (GDMBR) and peg me for someone riding it. I’m headed north now, after riding south for the past day and a half.
Her face lit up and she introduced herself as Barbara. She then went on to explain “My partner and I live on the route and host riders every year. There are a few cabins, a teepee, a grassy field to pitch a tent, and an outhouse. There is also a fridge on the porch of the house with cold soda and beer, hard boiled eggs, and sandwiches.”
“That sounds incredible” I said. “Where on the route?”
It’s about 40 miles from here if you go north on the route, and about 30 by car if you take the larger roads. Our place is called the Lost Lama Lodge, and there is a sign outside. If you get that far tonight, you should come stay with us. We don’t expect that many cyclists tonight so you should be able to get a cabin.
Wow, that would be nice! What does it cost?
It’s all free. We just really enjoy supporting cyclists and meeting people.
At this, I didn’t know how to react, except to feel very grateful and let Barbara know I would make every effort to make it to the lodge that night.
I figured out later that I had seen the sign for the lodge the night before but decided to keep riding south. I ended up camping about 10 miles further down the route.
I had ridden 30 miles already on this day, and another 40 to the lodge would make for a respectful 70 mile day. I had been traveling closer to 100 miles a day on recent trips, but I was battling a nasty cough that wouldn’t go away and feeling more tired than usual. I decided the lodge was a good distance and set my goal to get there that night.
I thanked Barbara and continued shopping.
I ordered a ham sandwich and a scoop of potato salad from the deli and got in line to pay for my pile of stuff right behind Barbara.
As the cashier rang her up, I saw her say something to him. Before I knew it, he was including my stuff on her bill and bagging it separately. I estimated that my lunch and a few snacks totaled $26.
Barbara and I walked out of the store together while she explained that she enjoyed doing it and really hoped I would stay on their property that night.
When we got to the parking lot, her partner John was there waiting in their van, and at this point I finally realized that I knew who these marvelous people were. John’s long hair and earthy look finally clued me in. I had seen them in a YouTube video by Ryan Van Duzer months before. The video was part of a series Duzer produced on the GDMBR. One of the videos highlighted the Lost Lama Lodge and the extreme giving nature of Barbara and John.
I said hello to John (although I wanted to give them both a bear hug but couldn’t during these crazy times) and excitedly told both of them what I had just realized, and also that I thought the world of them, and thanked them again for the groceries. I then told them I would hopefully see them that night. I walked back towards the store and took a seat at an outdoor table and began eating as we all waved and they drove off.
After polishing off lunch I ducked into the sporting goods store and bought a water filter. Then I hopped back on my bike and started pedaling back the direction I had just come from an hour before.
The first 8 miles or so were on highway 12, with a hot and dry headwind. These riding conditions are less than ideal, but I was on such a high from Barbara and John’s kindness I hardly noticed the extra effort required. I got back to the dirt soon enough, where it is always more interesting.
The GDMBR, is a relentless series of undulations, rocks, washboards, and steep hills that pass through absolutely stunning scenery along a route that roughly follows the Continental Divide. The route goes from Jasper, Alberta Canada to Antelope Wells, New Mexico and covers 3,083 miles total. The route is mostly offroad, utilizing fire roads, forest service roads, BLM roads, some pavement and some single track. I was only doing a small section of the route from Ovando, MT to Helena, MT and back over the course of three days. I had a little more than 30 miles of dirt to go this day before reaching a cabin at the Lost Lama Lodge.
After a couple of hours and lots of grunting up steep climbs I passed the spot I had camped the night before; a small majestic man-made lake right at the edge of the road. At the north end of the lake, a flowing stream exited the lake creating the perfect sound of tumbling water to fall asleep to. Since the lake wasn’t stagnant, it was clean and cool. Perfect for filling water bottles and taking a dip. If I hadn’t met Barbara and John, I would be tempted to stay there again that night, but now I was motivated to press on.
My camp spot the first night of the trip.
A couple of miles more and I passed the long abandoned Empire Mine, which produced gold, silver, copper and lead in the late 1800’s. There isn’t much there now besides a couple of large rusting hunks of discarded machinery and an interpretive sign, which was interesting for the history.
More miles of pedaling and smiles went by and I was back at the Lost Lama Lodge. I snapped a picture of the sign this time, (picture is at the top of this page) and entered the property through the gate. There were several cyclists there and a truck and trailer was parked on the lot. The trailer was set up for meal preparation, and there was a woman cooking a large dinner there. Apparently this was a company that was hired by a group of cyclists to travel along the route and tend to their needs. The place buzzed with energy as groups of fit cyclists worked on their bikes, talked, and drank beer in the late day sun.
The grassy lot had a tent pitched on the north corner and I noticed a couple of lama grazing in the field. A quick scan of the rustic cabins and the bikes outside made it seem they were all occupied. I propped my bike against a fence and made my way towards the house to find John and Barbara. On the porch I found Barbara’s aunt and her aunt’s son who were visiting from out of town, and I introduced myself. I started explaining that I had met John and Barbara in Helena that day when they both walked out of the house and greeted me on the patio. John immediately opened the refrigerator and told me to make myself at home and take whatever I wanted.
As I ate a ham sandwich and fruit infused water John explained to me that this had turned out to be a record day for the Lost Lama Lodge. It was the most cyclists ever to spend the night! “Unfortunately, the cabins are all taken, so you will have to sleep in your tent in the meadow,” John said. I could tell he didn’t enjoy telling me that. “On the upside though, we are baking a tomato and cheese frittata, accompanied with orzo, avocado and salad for dinner. We would like you to join us”.
As I choked down a bite of sandwich, I contemplated what this meant. On one hand, I was excited to eat a hot, delicious dinner with new friends, but how much is too much? These people were so incredibly nice, and they had already bought me lunch, invited me to stay at their place, and now they want me to have dinner with the whole family. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to be rude, so I decided not to think too much about it and accept.
“Great! Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes” John stated.
I walked to the meadow while I finished my sandwich and started unpacking my tent. Before I knew it, John was there telling me it was time to eat. I took a strap from the half erect tent and tied it around my bike so it wouldn’t fly away in the breeze and walked over to their back patio where everyone was sitting around a large table. The food looked amazing (even though I had just finished a ham sandwich) and John and Barbara and Barbara’s family were all very welcoming. Conversation was relaxed and easy. There was discussion about the large number of cyclists there that night, their neighbor who was donating an old covered wagon to be converted into more sleeping accommodations in the meadow, and the fire lookout owned by the USFS Barbara had volunteered at.
About the time dinner was winding down, John put the last slice of frittata on my plate. Obviously he is used to hungry cyclists. As I leaned forward to resume eating, the back of the chair caught my Omnipod that was stuck to my lower back. It instantly peeled away from my skin, and I knew it was a goner. I would need to replace it as soon as possible.
The first serving of dinner on the patio at the Lost Lama Lodge.
After cleaning my plate a second time, I thanked everyone for a lovely evening, and explained that I needed to get back to my tent and tend to my diabetes. (I had told Barbara and John earlier that I was Type 1 diabetic when I rejected a coke from the refrigerator. I felt like it deserved an explanation). Everyone seemed to understand, and I said goodbye before walking back to my tent.
My tent is very light weight, which is wonderful, but the downside is that it is small. I can’t easily sit up in it, and as a result I had to lay on my stomach to put a new Omnipod on my lower back. I struggled a little but did get a new pod attached in a good spot on my back.
A couple of tents and out buildings in the meadow of the lodge.
The sun was getting low on the horizon, and this time of year in Montana, that means it was around 10:00pm. I was still pretty hot and a little sweaty. My face was gritty with salt, and I immediately started in with this nasty cough again as soon as I laid my head down. I used a few baby wipes to clean my face, armpits, and butt, and then tried to go to sleep. I laid there for hours but couldn’t fall asleep. I checked my blood sugar using my Dexcom and it was 190 and rising. I grabbed my Omnipod PDM and gave myself 2.5 units. Another hour went by before I fell asleep.
I woke up around 6:00am and had to pee. My head was throbbing and I felt achy and sore. I took a couple of Ibuprofen and then checked my blood sugar. 330! “Wow, that’s high” I thought and gave myself another 2.75 units of Insulin. I couldn’t go back to sleep, but instead laid there coughing every 30 seconds while my headache got worse. I felt bad for the other campers around me. Most of them were in rustic cabins but with no air conditioning, there windows were open and I was worried I was ruining everyone’s stay.
I did finally fall back to sleep but it was a fitful night spent coughing while half awake most of the evening. I woke up for good around 8:45. I saw the last of the other tent campers strapping his gear back on his bike and riding away. Almost all of the cyclists staying in the cabins were gone too. It was just me and the lama’s now.
I laid there wondering what I should do. I felt pretty bad. I had slept less than 5 hours I estimated. I could just stay there at the lodge and rest instead of riding back to Ovando. It wouldn’t be a quality rest though. It was already getting hot, and I would have a hard time sleeping and getting recovered. I felt like I needed air conditioning and a cheeseburger for true recovery. And oh yeah, I just remembered my blood sugar was super high last night. I checked it again - 350. It was still going up. “What’s going on?” I thought. And the real bummer is that if what I thought happened, actually did happen, I was in deep trouble. I suspected that my new Omnipod I put on last night wasn’t working. I suspected that I didn’t get it on correctly when I was laying on my stomach in my tent, and possibly the corner of the adhesive was caught under the pod near the cannula and I wasn’t getting any of the insulin I was dosing. The absolute worst part of all of this is that I didn't have another Omnipod. The pod I used the night before was my backup. When I packed for my trip, I didn’t calculate correctly, and I had to replace my pod the first day, which meant the one I used the night before was my backup and I didn’t have any spares and I had no plan. In an effort to pack light and conserve space, I didn’t have any insulin pens or syringes either. A terrible feeling of doom washed over me. Somewhat panicked, I decided to pack up and get on my bike as soon as I could and try to ride it out and lower my blood sugar through exercise.
It was a real struggle to skip coffee. Going without breakfast wasn’t fun either, but it was the coffee I craved most. I thought about that steaming cup of thick black deliciousness for a mile or so, but when the road pitched up, and riding became so hard it was the only thing I could focus on, my attention went to pedaling and balance. I was traveling so slow it was difficult to stay upright and roll over the rocks. A couple miles later and still ascending the same hill, I realized things really weren’t right. The road wasn’t as steep as some of the others I had ridden up the previous day. I simply had no power and on top of that I was dizzy and my mind was foggy. I was pushing hard and nothing was coming easy. Forward momentum was nearly nonexistent. Soon I was off my bike and walking. Humbled and discouraged, I decided to stop and rest.
It was probably only a couple of minutes later, but the best way to describe it is that I woke up. I was standing in the middle of the road, straddling my bike. I was bent at the waist and my forehead was on my forearms which were folded across my handlebars. I didn’t remember how I got there exactly, only that I needed to stop and rest. I had either fallen asleep or passed out while I was standing in the middle of the road. This is when I admitted to myself that I was in serious trouble, scared, and I needed a plan. I needed to ask someone for help.
I pulled my phone out and popped open Gaia GPS. I could see I was about 6 miles up the 8 mile grade to Granite Pass. If I got to the top, I was about 17 miles to Lincoln, MT where there was a bar and a post office but not much else. The town of Ovando is even smaller than Lincoln and it was 57 miles away, and they probably wouldn’t have anything there that could help me either. My van was there however, so I could probably drive myself to a pharmacy. I couldn’t fathom riding another mile though, let alone 57 miles on the GDMBR to Ovando. I knew deep down I wouldn’t make it.
Still trying to formulate a plan, I noticed that I had cell service - which was unbelievable. I could call someone!
My wife was working from home. I knew I could call her and she would come in a heartbeat. It would take her two and a half or three hours to get to Helena though, and then I would have to explain where I was - out on this obscure dirt road in the middle of nowhere. I would have to give her good directions on how to find me, and I didn’t think I was even capable of that. I could send her a message through my Spot Tracker with longitude and latitude points but it would still consume her whole workday to come and get me. Or I could call John and Barbara and ask them if I could get a ride from them to Helena. That’s the closest, biggest town near me, and I was in need of a pharmacy. That could work!
I checked my blood sugar again after sweating uphill for 6 miles. It was at 415.
John answered on the second ring.
I tried to explain my situation as clearly as I could as my speech declined and I became more confused.
John’s voice was calm although I could tell he understood how serious my situation was. “It’s going to be okay” he said slowly and deliberately. “We aren’t home right now. We are on our way to Great Falls, and we won’t be back until late tonight.” My hopes of being rescued suddenly crumbled away. “Here is what you do” he continued. “Ride your bike back downhill the 6 miles to our place.” Then he told me how to get into the garage, and said “There is a truck in the garage. Load your bike in the back and drive to Helena. Once you get what you need there, drive the truck back to Ovando where your van is and leave the truck in the parking lot. We can go get it later. Don’t worry about a thing. Just go get what you need.”
So, that’s exactly what I did. I coasted downhill for 6 miles and on the way I thought about how significant this gesture really was. I had just met John and Barbara the day before! And now they are telling me to take their expensive truck out of their garage and drive it to Helena so I can get to a pharmacy. I couldn’t imagine how much better the world would be if more people were as giving and trusting as these two people.
Once back at the lodge, I unlocked their garage and changed clothes next to the truck. I loaded my bike in the back of their Dodge dually, and drove to Helena using Google Maps. I called my Endocrinologist on the way and talked with her assistant about what was going on; blood sugar of 425 and no way to administer the insulin I had with me. We decided that all I really needed were some syringes to inject insulin until I got home and I could put on a fresh Omnipod.
I pulled up to the CVS in Helena where my Endocrinologist had phoned in my prescription. A few minutes later I had a bag of 10 syringes that cost me $2.98. I immediately went to the restroom at CVS and injected 5 units of insulin.
The 75 nervous miles back to Ovando went by quickly. I was feeling better but still not super confident in my driving after such low blood sugar. On the way I topped off the gas tank and I thought about how grateful I was to be surrounded by extraordinary people like John and Barbara. I thought about the big mistake I made by trying to go too light and fast and deciding not to take another Omnipod, insulin pen or even a syringe. I thought about my doctor and her assistant, who were obviously concerned and went out of their way to help. I thought about the privileged life I lead, and I thought about ways I could give back, or pay it forward and be a better, more thoughtful and giving person. This idea of wanting to give back and be better is of course a direct result of being looked after and loved by new friends.
I pulled the big Dodge dually next to my van in the dirt parking lot of Trixie’s Antler Saloon. My blood sugar was at 125. A wash of relief flowed through me as I transferred my bike from the truck to the van. It was 2:00pm now and I still hadn’t eaten, so I locked up both vehicles and walked into Trixie’s for that air conditioning and cheeseburger I was craving.
After hiding the keys to the dually truck I started the drive home in my van. I was thinking of friends I could call who would be able to spend the better part of a Friday to help me shuttle the truck from Ovando back to the Lama Lodge. I knew John could pick up his truck, but it was at least 100 miles out of his way, and I was determined to get his truck back to him.
I called my running buddy Andy. He had a wedding to go to and had to leave town Friday night but he could do it early on Friday. I figured that from Missoula where I live to Ovando and then to Helena was 125 miles. From there we would drop off the truck and drive back to Missoula, another 115 miles. The round trip of 240 miles didn’t deter Andy, especially after I told him about the extreme generosity of two people I had only just met the day before, and how they had saved me.
I made plans with Andy to pick him up in the morning at 7:00am. “I know this is a heinous ask Andy. I really appreciate this” I told him.
A couple hours later that night I got a text from John. They had picked up their truck on their way back from Great Falls. I was relieved that they had their truck back, but I also felt bad that they had to drive 100 miles out of their way to get it. I was also relieved that Andy could stay at home and get ready for the wedding he was attending and didn’t have to spend the day in a car to help me out. I felt gratitude for all these wonderful people. I was home and I was healthy, and I was okay, just like John said I would be.
Since that day in June I have thought about John and Barbara often but they are extremely busy and I haven’t had much contact with them besides one text I sent to John. I was trying to think of ways to say “Thank you” and let them know that what they did for me was extraordinary. I had asked John previously if I could give them a donation to the lodge as a thank you, but he wouldn’t accept. This time, through the text I asked if I could do any work on the lodge. Things like pulling weeds, mowing, whatever. He declined this as well. He then said “Instead of paying us back, we ask that you pay it forward. That’s all we want.
I am still practicing what it’s like to be better, more compassionate and loving, more trusting. I am trying to learn to pay it forward, but frankly I still have a long way to go. But isn’t that a wonderful thing to strive for!
The Great Divide Mountain Bike Route was developed by Adventure Cycling Association in Missoula, Montana in 1998. Their website touts the GDMBR as the longest off-pavement route in the world with over 200,000 feet of elevation gain. The route travels from Jasper, Alberta Canada, through Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado and terminates at the Mexican border at Antelope Wells, New Mexico.
Below is a link to the video by Ryan Van Duzer I referred to. Nobody tells adventure stories through YouTube quite like Duzer. It’s a great little insight into the GDMBR and Barbara Nye and John Keller of the Lost Lama Lodge.
This story was edited on September 19, 2021 after John and Barbara contacted me. Changes included the ownership of the fire lookout, Barbara’s aunt (who oI originally thought was her sister) and the fact that the town of Lincoln is bigger than Ovando.
