IPFS
CONNECTING THE DOTS
Frosty Wooldridge
More About: Entertainment: Outdoor RecreationPart 14: Bicycling the Continental Divide—Mexico to Canada—accident and pain
“What is adventure? If a lone wolf lifts
his plaintive call into the moonlight near your campsite, you might call that
adventure. While you’re sweating like a horse on a climb over a 12,000 foot
pass, that could be adventure. When howling headwinds press your lips against
your teeth, you face a mighty struggle. When your pack grows heavy on your
shoulders as you climb a 14,000 foot peak, you feel the adventure. When you
suffer freezing temperatures and 20 inches of fresh powder on a hut to hut trip
in the Rockies, that could be called adventure. But that’s not what makes an
adventure. It’s your willingness to conquer it, and to present yourself at the
doorstep of nature. That creates the experience. No more greater joy can come
from life than to live inside a moment of adventure. It is the uncommon
wilderness experience that gives your life expectation.” FHW,
Golden, Colorado
As I snoozed at day break, Gerry charged
out of his sleeping bag, grabbed his guitar and walked over to my tent with a
song on his lips. He sang, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you
make me happy when skies are gray…”, but my sleep-filled brain could hardly
comprehend his words. Nonetheless, he sang and I woke up to his happy
singing for the new day. Gerry’s singing to me in the morning must be a
first for my bicycle travels around the world. He proves to be a bright
light in the world and a fresh spirit born to make people laugh and sing.
(Gerry singing, “You are my sunshine, my
only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray….”)
Additionally, yesterday, we passed
through Lamont, Wyoming where L.B. Brantner hosts a “Free Bicycle Camping”
resort. I stayed at her place two years ago. She offers cyclists
two teepees, an 18 wheeler freight box trailer with bed, picnic tables,
roof-blown-off outhouse and a fire pit for campfires. Also, for every
cyclist who stops, she features a refrigerator filled with ice cream bars,
energy bars, tuna, cans of peaches and other goodies. She likes the company.
While her place could use some tidying-up, you will always remember your time
at Ms. Brantner’s cycle resort. I think she even put in a shower
enclosure area this year, but you must bring your own shower bag and water. You
can water-up at the restaurant 100 yards down the road from her resort on Route
287. (She’s about 100 yards or so north of the only building in
town on Route 287 and take a left and you’ll see her yellow banner for her
resort on the right.)
(L.B.Brantner’s Free Bicycle
Camping Resort in Lamont,Wyoming. Unique bicycle stop with an outhouse with the
roof blown off.)
(Outhouse with no roof at the Free
Bicycle Camping Resort.)
We pedaled into her resort around
mid-day to find a lot of wind damage and things blown all over the place.
I gave her a big hug and signed a copy of my adventure book. She’s a
great lady and should have her “Bike in bloom” growing flowers before summer’s
end.
At breakfast at the bar in Jeffrey City,
the chef lady, Vicki, bragged, “I specialize in pancakes that take a cyclist
one and a half hours to eat three of them. I’m famous for my pancakes.”
Later, fully stuffed, the four of us struck out northbound on Route
287. We pedaled for an hour before meeting a 4’10” dude,
Hawaiian and so skinny he had to jump around in a shower to get wet. He
bragged about his 50 year old Fuji bicycle with his handmade golf buggy pulled
behind and all his gear in a golf bag. Only 10 gears, rotten seat, rusted
frame. He shouldn’t ride across the country on that bike.
Darnedest set-up I have ever seen.
“I’m 65 years old and running out of
time so I figured I better ride my bicycle across America before I couldn’t
physically do it,” he said. “Nice to meet you fellow cyclists on the
road.”
(At 65, Lyle rode his 50 year old, 10
speed, Fuji bike across America with two wheeled golf cart and bag. Amazing!)
He talked and laughed. He showed us how
his two-wheeled golf cart detached from the seat stem. He bragged about
his 50 year old bike that he had ridden as a kid. Suddenly, another
65 year old cyclist stopped and told us about his 20th cycle
crossing of the USA and that he planned to ride with RAGBRI across Iowa in a
week or two. He rode a broken down old bike, too, with front
panniers and no rear panniers, but he wore an orange vest for safety and
carried a bottle of ammonia for dogs on his head tube. He looked about as
prepared to ride across America on a bicycle as a mosquito trying to fly to the
moon.
Another young guy stopped to let us know
about his ride from Bellingham, Washington to Virginia Beach. Within
seconds, he jumped on his bike and pedaled toward the horizon. We rode on
the Trans American Bicycle Route, which gave us a bevy of riders on their own
journeys.
Later in the day, still on flat land, we
passed an old Mormon fort where the Mormon Trail pushed westward in the
1800s. Within 10 miles, the plains dropped for six miles into a vast and
empty bowl with miles of endless rock and brush. Down that pass we
flew like eagles soaring from the mountain tops. We felt like a flight of
fancy from Never-Never Land. On such a long descent, I feel spiritual
energy well-up inside of me. My spirit soars. I am filled with glee.
At the bottom, as we crossed over a
bridge with a raging river below us, Wayne accidently overran Dave’s wheel and
flipped himself hard onto the pavement. I crammed on my brakes, but still ran
into Gerry’s rear left pannier, ripping it off its hinges. In one
instant, we changed from bliss and smiles—to helping Wayne sit up, checked for
broken bones and picked up his bike. A motorist offered to take him to
Lander about 10 miles away.
For certain, he damaged his shoulder and
felt the pain. He called his wife, Kit where they lived in Landis about 1
hour away, to come get him at the hospital. The motorist took Wayne to
the hospital. I locked up his bicycle in an abandoned house. Gerry, Dave
and I pedaled toward Lander. An hour later, they found a motel and I
found Wayne in the Emergency Room with bandaged shoulder, sling and Kit sitting
with him.
“That puts and end to my ride with you,”
said Wayne. “I’m glad I didn’t injure any of you guys. Are Gerry and Dave
all right?”
“They’re fine,” I said. “How’s your
shoulder?”
“Ah, I cracked my shoulder blade, but
not enough for any operation,” said Wayne. “It’ll be as good as new in a
month.”
Kit and I took Wayne to the car and
drove back to retrieve the bike. After our goodbyes, I pedaled from the
hospital to a city park with free camping on a beautiful river and restrooms
with a shower.
Wayne’s accident proved once again to
me: live every second of every day fully, completely, with zest, with gusto and
appreciation for your good fortune, your health and well being. Life can turn
into a nasty ordeal within seconds for any of us. I cooked up
dinner, munched on some bagels and afterwards—fell quickly to sleep.
(Our gas station along the route.)
##
Frosty Wooldridge has bicycled across six continents - from the
Arctic to the South Pole - as well as eight times across the USA, coast to
coast and border to border. In 2005, he bicycled from the Arctic Circle, Norway
to Athens, Greece. In 2012, he bicycled coast to coast across America. In
2013, he bicycled 2,500 miles from Mexico to Canada on the Continental Divide, 150,000
vertical feet of climbing and 19 crossing of passes. He presents “The
Coming Population Crisis facing America: what to do about it.” www.frostywooldridge.com . His latest
book is: How to Live a Life of Adventure: The Art of Exploring the World by
Frosty Wooldridge, copies at 1 888 280 7715/ Motivational program: How to Live a Life of Adventure:
The Art of Exploring the World by Frosty Wooldridge, click: www.HowToLiveALifeOfAdventure.com
Live well, laugh often, celebrate daily
and enjoy the ride,
Frosty Wooldridge
Golden, Colorado
6 Continent world bicycle traveler
Order these unique cards
today: http://www.howtolivealifeofadventure.com/
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