From the Mountaintop Archives: The Eve of the Last Day.

We swore at the hills today as we rode from Ten Sleep to Buffalo. My Dad even gave the finger to one unexpected rise but it didn’t respond. It just sat there and made him feel foolish. We knew we faced a big pass, Powder River, the highest and longest of our trip so far, 9,666 feet, with over 5,000 in elevation gain over twenty plus miles. For the last mile we could see the RV waiting at the top with Mom and Elias to wave us forward.

We thought we made it.

But then we stayed high in the Big Horn Mountains for another twenty miles with deceitful down hills that ended with abrupt climbs. Psychologically, these sneaky hills hurt more than the constant drive up Powder River Pass. We thought every hill was the last one until we hit another. By the time we reached another KOA campground in Buffalo, we pedaled for four and a half hours and this does not include our snack, water, and lunch breaks.

We saved the hardest day for the second to last. We land in Kaycee tomorrow afternoon where for three nights we sleep in private bedrooms at my great Aunt Lois and Crow’s ranch. I feel nostalgic already about our biking days coming to an end. I’ll miss waking up to ride, even if the RV shrunk over the last month and we could all use a chance to spread out and enjoy personal space.

The physical challenge of biking, though daunting at times, feels easier than the challenges of arranging a life.

I can’t bike forever. I know that. But I hope to harness this energy and channel it into a more centered routine. One that feels like rising and pedaling. Sleeping and doing it again. And accepting that I can never fully anticipate the change in grade around each bend.

As I write from the deck of the KAO campground office, between sentences I watch a mama cat supervise her black and white kittens. She sits near two who wrestle and chase each other around the cabins. A moment ago, as I pondered how to end this post, a third all-black one, that I hadn’t seen earlier, ventured away from his mama to rub against my ankle. He jumped in my lap, curled up, and purred.