DAY OF A BAZILLION BICYCLES

It’s about sixty miles to the Wyoming Border from our house. 

That’s about one hour by car on good paved roads through rolling hills of wheat fields.

 The Grand Teton Mountains are always visible.  (The highest peak, The Grand, is 13,775 feet --4,199 m—high).  The highway gradually rises and then switchbacks over their south shoulder

The climb steepens at the border.

DH and I continue our drive over Teton Pass.  Each mile is more vertical and more winding.

 We are on the last switchback and just a few yards from the top when we see what we are looking for.

 Our youngest son, a.k.a. Beavis, left a few hours earlier in the day from our house riding his bicycle.   He had the Teton Pass as his goal.  At this point the bike is getting a rest, but Beavis is not. 

 We yell words of encouragement, give him a bottle of cold water, and drive around to wait for him at the summit.

 After all that work biking UP he wants to ride DOWN the other side.

 He checks his brakes, takes a deep breath and pushes off. 

(Note the snow on the hill behind him).

 And he’s almost out of sight in seconds.

 There goes my baby to certain death!

 We follow him down the hairpin turns.

 He stops at an overlook point.  His brakes are sizzling hot!

 Down and down and around he goes to end safely at the bottom.  BUT this isn’t the end of the story.  He changes from his biking gear, loads his bicycle in the car and we go on toward Jackson Hole Ski Resort.

 With the Wyoming side of the Tetons in the background we suddenly come upon MORE people on bicycles.

  

 They are participating in the LOTOJA Race.  It is considered one of the longest single-day cycling races in North America.  The course goes from Logan, Utah to Jackson, Wyoming, a distance of 209 miles (335 km) and over three mountain passes.

And they are almost finished.

 One of the riders will be our first son, a.k.a. Bobert.  

We are going to wait for him at the finish line.

 Even after riding for over ten hours they come in at incredible speeds.

 There are two thousand riders, some in teams, some in relays and some, like our son, traveling alone with support from wife or friend.

We watch and watch for Bobert. Then his wife, “Greasy Lightning” sees him zip by and runs to meet him at the finish.  But his mother blinked and missed a chance at the big photograph.

 DH, Beavis and I make our way through the crowd and find him triumphant and celebrating

 as Greasy Lightning pushes his trusty bicycle beside him.

 Bobert and Beavis had quite a day!

Now, I ask you, do not those boys have very handsome legs?