The day before yesterday, my initial plan was to ride an approximate 200 miles from Idaho Falls to Swan Valley, then over the Pine Creek pass to Victor, to agonizingly plod up the Teton pass and zip down to Jackson Hole, then to circle south to Hoback Junction, through Alpine Junction, back west to Swan Valley, and on to home.

About 6:00 a.m. and 24 miles east of Idaho Falls, I got a flat tire.  Stupid me.  I knew I should have tried to pump up that back tire to its 120 psi recommendation.  But I was an even greater dimwit.  I willfully decided to not carry a tire pump on this solo ride.  I know.  Just label this action as impertinent, reckless pride. 

Circumstances have a way of purging one of never trying such stunts again.  I had my thumb in the air, but no one picked me up.  For about an hour, I walked back to Idaho Falls, periodically adjusting my floppy back tube and tire so that it would even turn.  But at 7:00 a.m., a Good Samaritan pulled over.  As a fellow biker, he empathized completely with my predicament.  I laughed in sheer relief.  This particular Samaritan grew up in Idaho Falls, went to school in Utah, presently lives in Boise, and is a lawyer working for Frank Vandersloot in southeastern Idaho.  I am filled with gratitude for this helper who rescued a highway straggler.  (Reminds me of two months ago when my car broke down on the I-15 freeway, and a kind LDS husband and his wife, a graduate from BYU-Hawaii, saved me from being stranded.  But that is another incredible story.)

Back in Idaho Falls, I waited till 9:00 am for the bike shop to open.  By the time, I had fixed my flat and bought a portable pump, it was 9:30.  So in order to salvage the day for biking, I decided to drive to Swan Valley, legendary for the square ice cream cones at the Rainey Creek Country Store.  They must be fabulously famous, for on the July 4 weekend last month, they sold 18,761 cones.  Not too bad, eh?  No wonder my sister and brother-in-law are in the summer ice cream business up in Canmore, Alberta.  Westerners find irresistible their ice cream.

At 11:40 am, I took off for the mountains.  I must say if you tackle the Teton Pass from the Wyoming side, you are cheating.  When taking the pass from the Idaho side, you are in for an extended, killer workout.  And if you can travel all the way to the top in high gear, you merit a gold medal.

 

On the way down to Jackson Hole, I flew like the wind, keeping speed with automobiles, my face acting like a motorcycle windshield.  One crash and I would be dead or at least mangled.  My wife tells me that if I ever maim myself because of a silly bike ride, she would divorce me.  🙂  I propose to her that I am just plum crazy and addicted to speed.

 

The rest of my ride was great.  Yes, I battled high winds, making me wish at moments I had my own peloton to enable me to expend only 60% of my energy compared to being solo; but nevertheless, God sent me cool rain showers.  And just south of Hoback Junction, I saw a big bull moose down in the water about three hundred feet off the highway.  With his big ears twitching, he stared straight at me.  Moose-watching in the Intermountain West is a wondrous treat.

 

Rounding the bend at Alpine Junction, I soaked up the panorama of the sublime Palisades Reservoir within the boundaries of Idaho on my way back to Swan Valley.  And to finish out my trip, I decided to hit the 1.5 mile hill at 6% grade, situated about five miles west of the quaint valley on highway 26.  At 6% grade, I can manage to keep it in high gear on my 16-speed Motobecane.  Well . . . at least for one and half miles.  🙂

 

I am happy.  Because that Good Samaritan picked me up early on Tuesday morning, I was able to put in 150 miles by bike on the road.  If he didn’t pick me up, it would have been a whole day on foot.  God is merciful, compassionate, and gracious to a fool like me.

 

I pray that God will pity me in the upcoming LotoJa Classic 2007, September 8.  As an inexperienced, unprofessional, slow creature who loves hamburgers, French-fries and ice cream, I am going to desperately need God’s sustaining, invigorating, helping, and encouraging aid.  To God be the glory among mankind.  If it were not for God’s ceaseless care, I wouldn’t even be getting out of bed in the morning.

 

(Interestingly, on Tuesday, a photographer was taking shots of me gasping on the Teton Pass.  For anybody taking pictures of me at LotoJa, I will be the guy in last place and wearing a jersey with “HeartIssuesForLDS.org” on my sleeve.   🙂   But by God’s grace, I will finish. )