Besides a little cold rain, the short ride to Jackson was easy enough. I met Kevin Olsen, my Rotary contact and host in Jackson outside his neighborhood and he helped settle me in at the Olsen home. He had a beautiful,  big house with an amazing view of the Grand Tetons off his back porch. I spent the rest of the day hanging out with the Olsen family, and resting. The next day, Tuesday, proved to be one of the craziest days I've had on  this campaign. I rode around town a little bit in the morning before making my way over to the Rotary club meeting. After meeting several members and finding Kevin, we grabbed out lunch and sat down. Like all meetings I waited to be introduced then did my little 5-8 minute speech and sat down. This was a rather large club, with around 15 big round tables in the banquet hall. On the opposite side of the room from my table a man stood up and announced that his table just collected $60 dollars toward One Man, One Bike, One Fight and that he challenged all the other tables to at least match that. Immediately there was this crazy commotion in the hall, and the other announcements being made were rather muddled. By the end of the commotion and collections they presented me with a three inch stack of cash totally something like $965 dollars. I was completely speechless and blown away. I didn't know what to do with such a thing. After the meeting was over, I immediately went to the local Wells Fargo bank and opened a free checking account. I did not want to be pulling around that much cash with me in my trailer for any amount of time. I then went to a bike shop where I picked up a couple more inner tubes and ran into two other guys doing bicycle tours. One in particular had the opposite timing story of mine. He was doing a cross country tour, then heading off to the Peace Corps where as I just returned from the PC and now I was cycling. We had a good conversation for a while, then I headed over to the local microbrewery pub for some more food and a celebration beer.

Backtracking in time here a moment: after the Rotary meeting earlier in the day, a visiting Rotarian, Mike Banville, from Bozeman, MT introduced himself and told me that I needed to get up to Bozeman for their Friday breakfast meeting. I didn't even know I was invited so this was a surprise, but when he mentioned that the main guest on Friday was a famous man who was five inches taller than I was, my brain immediately though, "Shaq?!" But then he gave the clue that he was in a golf comedy and I immediately realized who he was speaking of. The actor Richard Kiel, the man who played Jaws in the James Bond movies and Mr. Larson, Adam Sandler's old boss with the nail in his head, in Happy Gilmore was the correct answer. With this information, I knew that I wasn't going to be spending any extra time in Jackson like I had planned, and had to get on the road the next day.

So, after the having a couple celebratory micro brews, I cycled over to Kevin's work where I was informed that I had been invited to Jackson's "Supper Rotary club" that I didn't even know existed. So after getting leaving Kevin and going to grab a iced double espresso I cycled over to the next Rotary meeting. This was a much smaller club, but they were extremely relaxed and friendly. Everyone was happy to meet me and hear my story and this club also gave very generously. When I got back to the Olsen's, Shelly, Kevin's wife, had a late dinner prepared and I had yet another meal. I ate five good meals that day and would have felt like a glutton, but what I learned next made me feel smart for eating so much. For some reason, I had it in my mind that it was a one day trip from Jackson to Bozeman on a bike. Google maps shattered that idea when I read 230 miles from the total trip distance. This meant that I had back-to-back 120 mile days with in city/park travel, because Yellowstone National Park was between these cities and I definitely wanted to see Ol' Faithful. So, I packed up the night before, prepared my mental state for the long journey and got some sleep.

That next morning, I was not excited. I set out, made it through town okay, then found myself cycling through a wide open elk reserve with the Grand Tetons coming up on the left. The beauty that I witnessed that day was the only thing that kept me going. There was a strong, cold wind blowing right into my face all day long keeping me at a measly 12-13 mph. The Tetons were amazing. I was slightly disappointed in the fact that there were low level clouds covering the very tops of the peaks, but that in itself was rather awesome. I had to pass through Grand Teton National Park in order to reach Yellowstone, and toward the end of the first park there were signs warning of heavy construction and to expect delays. As I closed in on this area, I passed an older man touring by bicycle in the opposite direction. He signaled me to stop, so I obliged. He warned me about the eight miles of terrible road ahead, which I was not excited to hear, but then he went off on a rant about how the construction workers wanted him to put his bike into their Pilot Car which would have safely got him through the poor terrain and bad traffic and how he refused to accept their help. He threatened to call the state police and whatnot, and the whole time I'm thinking to myself, "YES! A pilot car!". I told him good luck and got back to pedaling. When I reached the construction, I rolled up to a man next to a truck and asked if there was a pilot car. He smiles and says load it up. When I jumped in with him, he begins to tell me about a real ornery man who refused their help. I started laughing and told him I had just met him and he was still being ornery and ranting. I told him I was happy to accept some assistance and wasn't gonna fight him. We laughed about it, and I got a ride over the eight miles of pot-holed mud, dirt and gravel road. Hoping out of the truck and getting back on the bike, I was about three miles from the entrance of Yellowstone, which meant I had another 57 miles to go till I reached my camp site.

I put my head down and just pedaled and pedaled. I had some decent climbs through the park and other than a few great views of a river and canyon it was a lot of pine trees and nothing else. At mile 90 I had been climbing a good bit and crossed the continental divide for the second time that day, and the sixth time in my trip. I was happy to learn from a passing family that Ol' Faithful was only six miles ahead and it was all down hill. At 7:30 pm I arrived at Ol' Faithful. It was getting close to sunset and I had another 16 miles to go till camp. Luckily I timed it rather well and only had to wait around twenty minutes for it to blow. I was impressed with the height of the water's eruption, but the over all enjoyment of the sight was limited for several reasons. I was exhausted, knew I had a while longer to cycle, there were hundreds of happy families and couples all excited to see it while I was sweaty, tired and alone, and finally because it's slightly unsettling to know that Ol' Faithful exists because Yellowstone is a giant super volcano that is capable of ending life as we know it on the planet and just happens to be near the geological time to explode. Other than all that, I was happy to have made it this far and see this national treasure of ours. Again, luckily, it was all down hill to my camp site and I made it before pitch black dark. I also got to see one of my favorite sun sets of all time. The sky was totally orange and the sun was low behind a large geyser basin with a dozen or so steam vents making for a very picturesque days end. Upon reaching my camp site night had fallen along with the already low temperature and I was shivering. Soaked with sweat, I had to set up my tent and bed before going to change into dry, warm clothes. That night the temperature fell to 30 degrees, and it was not a comfortable night. My sleeping bag is only weathered to 40 degrees and when I stretch out, which is what you really want to do after 8 1/2 hours on a bike, it only come up to my chest. Therefore, I had to pull my legs up and sleep in total fetal position down inside my sleeping back like I was the filling of a burrito. I made it through the night, not completely rested, but alive. Which was a plus since I was surrounded by "Bear Country" warnings.

After eating a couple bananas with peanut butter, Clif bars, and trail mix for breakfast I stretched out and got back on the bike. The morning was actually rather nice, with a slight wind and only one slow climb I made it the 40 miles to Mammoth Hot Springs and the long, gorgeous decent through a mountainous canyon. I must have descended almost 3,000 feet in about nine miles but I made it to the exit of the park and Gardenier, MT where I had lunch. After eating, and talking to my family I mounted my trusty steed and pedaled out of town for the 80 mile afternoon ride. Immediately I knew there was a big difference from Yellowstone and Paradise Canyon where I had to ride 55 miles to Livingston, MT. It was much drier, brown and hot. There also happened to be a quite steady 15-20 mph wind blowing right into my face. The canyon acted as a wind tunnel and kept me at a difficult 13 mph the whole way, even on the down slopes, which is a moral killer. After much cursing and straining I made it to Livingston where I was to jump onto the interstate for the last 30 miles to Bozeman, MT. The first 12-15 miles were all uphill and I had no power left in my legs. Even on the flat parts I couldn't even break 10 mph. At the end of this first half stretch there was a small pass and when I crested it, I stopped, drank a Gatorade, and prepared for the home stretch. It was a great feeling to let gravity pull you down hill at 30 mph when you've been crawling all day long. When it flattened out toward Bozeman I had such a second (probably fifth) wind because I was so ready to be done that I was able to keep up a strong push and make it into town before dark. I met up with my friend from the Peace Corps, Khoi, who is a grad student at Montana State University here, and got settled in. 

I wanted to catch you all up completely, but I've been blogging for hours now and I've got to ride 97 miles tomorrow to get to Helena from Bozeman. So, you'll have to wait a couple more days to hear about my great experiences in Bozeman, because I need my sleep! I'm in Helena for a day for their Rotary club meeting, and I'll make sure to get everyone up to date and right where I am. Thanks for sticking with me.