What’s in a name?
Hey listen, I’m not much of a Shakespeare guy, but this question nagged at me as I drove my way to Great Falls, Montana with my bike in the back of my Santa Fe.
Great Falls? Isn’t that name a bit egotistical? Maybe hyperbolic? Wow, whatever the case, it has me banging out some big words for a change of pace.
I’m lured to ride the River’s Edge Trail. Having cruised along a number of the River Trails in the Northwest (see Hey, Just Ride 31 & 32), I prepared myself for another casual, relaxing jaunt along another lazy river.
Boy, was I wrong.
Cycling around Great Falls? I have to rate it nothing less than great, not to mention a fantastic surprise.
My quest began by rolling out of the KOA Campground on the edge of town and riding through quiet, wide residential streets to the River’s Edge Trail — possibly one of the best kept cycling secrets in the Northwest.
I jumped onto the paved section at the Lewis & Clark Museum, and rode along the wild, raging Missouri River toward the Great Falls and its namesake dam.
I wouldn’t call myself a dam guy, per se, but to see the unbridled power of the Missouri in late spring put all previous dam encounters to shame. All I could yell above the roar was, DAMN!
Along the trail rides through town, there are sections like the Great Falls when you swear you were in the middle of nowhere. Just sit tight, because if you have enough time, you will eventually be there. In the middle of nowhere, that is.
But first I rode west on the south side of the Missouri, following the path that is also a popular jogging, walking and biking route.
You get a real taste of Great Falls, the city, when it pulls you away from the riverfront for a pinch and shows off some older sections of town, ending up at the western edge with an amazing overlook.
Heading back east, I took the 3.5-mile Urban Loop that crosses over to the north side of the river and eventually back to the south — again, offering a mind-boggling array of picturesque river scenes.
Just about back where I first entered the trail, dirt singletrack detours allow you to get off pavement and play. At first they are just teasers, but it was tempting enough that I decided to continue the dirt trail east.
In a blink find yourself at Crooked Falls (and dam) and you’d swear you were hours from the city. The singletrack just keeps getting better and better and suddenly, you’re hooked.
There are blue diamond and black diamond tracks. I found the blue diamond more than challenging enough.
Eventually Cochran Dam appeared, again, igniting a newfound passion for dams. So much so that, well, I couldn’t turn back with Ryan Dam calling — challenging? — me on the map.
So my death march continued with the rolling up and down trail looking more ominous than it felt.
Then, I heard the roar.
What I saw next, as I rolled to the edge of the rocky ridge, reset everything I thought I knew about waterfalls, dams and rivers. The sheer power of Missouri River stunned me, and the magnitude of the dam left me speechless.
I rode that high all the way back to the KOA, somehow unfettered, undaunted by my six-hour day in the saddle.
I wouldn’t know how much I feasted on the energy from those dams until, of course, I found myself atop a bright yellow flower carpeted hilltop the next day, wondering if I should really write about this place or just keep it to myself.
Well, we all know the answer to that, now, don’t we?
