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Archive for March, 2014

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For the first sixteen miles my teeth were cold, cold enough to make them ache a bit. But that small pain could not wipe the smile off my face, even as that smile caused the pain. Spinning along the road in the 45 degree sunniness, cold teeth were simply a byproduct of  my cycling happiness.

The road is flat, or nearly so, from Missoula out to the tiny hamlet of Clinton. Our turnaround point is really just a Conoco station along I-90, famed among the bike club members for its hot coffee, fried chicken and corn dogs–all satisfyingly greasy fuel for the self-propelled.

Riding out with a dozen other Missoulians on Bikes I had taken my accustomed position, at the rear of the pack. The gracious ride leader John, who “sweeped” me along, entertained me with stories from his 37 years in my new home town. The conversation included–as so many of my recent ones have–a common Alaska connection. He told me of riding the train from Fairbanks to Denali to Talkeetna; I regaled him with stories of bringing cruise ship guests up from Whittier on that same conveyance. We agreed that late May is the perfect time to visit–no bugs, few tourists, great weather.

I thought to myself, “those sessions at the gym are really paying off!”, as I whirred along at 16 miles an hour. Then we reached Clinton. And standing outside, stretching and having a snack with the group I became aware of the breeze. From the back. Unless I was facing towards Missoula; then it was coming from the front.

“This can’t be right” I thought to myself in confusion. “Sharry’s not here with me. How is it we have a headwind?”

For the last sixteen miles my teeth were cold, and again they ached a bit. This time it was from grinding in frustration and grimacing in pain. It turns out that the road from Clinton to Missoula is NOT flat, not even relatively so, at least not if you’re bucking a headwind. What took a joyous hour going out consumed more than twice that coming in. But. Still.

What’s that saying? A bad day of fishing beats a great day of working? Yeah, just substitute the activity. Today’s cold teeth were just fine, regardless the cause.

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We arrived in Missoula on November 13, just  when we’d planned, and with no breakdowns or collisions with wildlife on the lonely, snowy road from Alaska. We came with the clothes on our backs and what could fit into our modern equivalent of the Conestoga wagon…skis and snowshoes, bikes, computer, a few treasured photos and 12 cases of smoked salmon. The essentials.

I KNOW I can get one more case of salmon in there somewhere!

I KNOW I can get one more case of salmon in there somewhere!

A spritz at the carwash and they'll be raring to go!

A spritz at the car wash and they’ll be raring to go!

Within a week we were in a new place–barren but with lots of potential for becoming a home.

But, what do I sit on?

But, what do I sit on?

Oh yeah, we brought the camp chairs!

Oh yeah, we brought the camp chairs!

Stock up on the essentials first...

Stock up on the essentials first…

Much to our delight we found that the thrift shops here are treasure troves, not junk shops. 

Finally-enough seating that we can have a party!

Finally, enough seating that we can have a party!

It's all coming together at last.

It’s all coming together.

Tom is in his kitchen and all is right with the world.

Tom is in his kitchen and all is right with the world.

Yes. Home at last.

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