I have driven the route to the Bozeman area and beyond many times on family vacations to Yellowstone and eastern Washington. A town or two along the Cycle Montana route were pretty familiar places. So this trip put me on familiar ground, except of course for the bicycling. And always when I have turned the car for home there has been, somehow, a palpable feeling of sadness and regret. The open space and the mountains of the northwest just do that to me and I think they always will.
There is lots of time to mull things over driving home alone for two days. I am satisfied with my ride. I prepared well and rode the route about as well as I could have hoped. The bicycle I assembled for the trip performed flawlessly and none of the usual things that cause pain and suffering on a bicycle gave me any problems. Not that many 63-year-old men with so little experience could have done much better.
As much as practically possible, I tried to take the time to drink it all in along the way. Sometimes after a day’s flyfishing from a driftboat I have had the feeling that I had somehow, in my intense concentration, missed out on the beautiful place I had been going through. And there is still just a little of that in my mind as I take my leave of this beautiful place.
As I get closer to home and family my spirits lift. But riding my bike in this special place was an experience I will not soon forget. All the local miles and routine daily rides made it possible to do this and I’m going to try and remember that when they seem just a little boring. Thanks to the people I met, however briefly, during this ride. You added much to the experience and the memories.
I will be back to southwest Montana, if I am able. And when I return, I am bringing my bike.
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