Well, my break ended and so I got back on the bike. I stopped for a second to take a picture of my bike next to Jackson's trademark antler arches. Unfortunately, a clique of teenyboppers wouldn't move from the base, so I just cropped them out.
I got going out of town and I had mixed feelings. Physically I was in great shape -- my legs were rested, and my wrists had recovered from the first two months of the trip. Psychologically, I was a bit conflicted. It's hard to take that big of a break and just leap right back into your trip. Sitting on my bike, riding into a slight headwind, I became keenly aware that my big break was over and that I wouldn't rest again until I reached the Pacific.
I've looked forward to reaching the Tetons for so long that I haven't even considered the rest of the trip. Now I need to make some decisions about where to go from here. I have one more week to decide. The possibilities, in order of their current probability:
1.) I ride the TransAm in its entirity, then turn north and follow the coast to Seattle or Vancouver.
2.) I ride to Glacier National Park and then head west to Seattle.
3.) I ride to Glacier, then retrace my route to Missoula and finish the TransAm.
I will, of course, let you know what I decide.
The day's ride wasn't that different from my previous days -- I was simply biking rather than driving through the Tetons -- the US' youngest mountain chain. I did stop and snap this photo from the inside of the Chapel of the Transfiguration, a tiny church with a picture window offering a fantastic view of the Tetons.
The day ended at Colter Bay campground, where my parents had picked me up ten days earlier. Allie and I had passed through the previous day and dropped off an ice chest with some beer. I showed up and went to my site, but the rangers made me move to a hiker/biker site.
The regular tent sites didn't offer bear boxes -- those campers are instructed to lock all of their food and toiletries in their cars. Since I had no vehicle, they forced me to move. It was a bit annoying, though moving the tent wasn't bad. The biggest pain was carrying the ice chest across the campground.
I set up and got a fire going, then had a few beers while I caught up on my journal. After a while on of my neighbors wandered over, prefacing his entrance with a question about how I carried the ice chest on the bike. I had extra beer, so I ignored the fact that this opening was a blatant attempt to get some alcohol. I invited him in and we sat by the fire and drank for a while. He introduced himself as Tom and told me that he'd been on the road for a few weeks, driving jeep trails throughout the western US. (Tom's jeep has a soft top, which is about as effective as a paper bag for protecting food from bears, which is why he was in the hiker/biker section). Tom had started in his home town of Phoenix, Arizona, and was gradually moving closer to Boise, Idaho, where his wife would join him for the last two weeks of the trip.
I couldn't help but notice that Tom beat a hasty retreat when the beer supply was exhausted, but in truth he did me a favor by helping me finish it. I headed over to the grill near the ranger station, where I had dinner. I gave Allie a call to make sure she had made it to New York safely (She hadn't. I caught up to her at an airport Hilton, waiting for another flight out of Salt Lake). As I pedaled back to camp, the skies began to open up, and I made it to my tent just in time to take shelter from the storm.