"I Ride, Therefore I TransAm"

[Paradise to Missoula, MT; 90 miles]

Waking up at 5:00 am after the first non-air mattress night in a long time was a bit of a struggle, but in true JOH fashion we were troopers and ready to hit the road. The ride to Missoula was my first time as a “sweep,” meaning one of two cyclists who hang back from the group and help stay on top of any issues that arise in the pace lines. After a day of numerous flat tires among my teammates, it was a relief to get into Missoula. Right from the get-go, it was clear that this was a very quirky, dare-I-say awesome city. Our first stop was lunch at the Adventure Cycling Association, a national nonprofit that was way more extensive that I envisioned. In addition to providing countless services to cyclists, the center features retro bicycles and inspirational pictures/testimonials of people of all ages (and I mean all) who embarked on cross-country trips. The man who founded the organization and gave us our tour not only established the traditional “TransAm” route on which ours is modeled, but also cycled with his wife from Alaska to the tip of Argentina over a two-year period. NBD.

Laundry and ice cream primarily come to mind when considering our groups activities during our two-day stint in town (apart from some amazing microbrew varieties!). This might sound odd considering Missoula holds the prestige of being the city in which the excellent fly fishing film/novel “A River Runs Through It” is set, but I assure you it was a good time! The laundremat essentially doubled as a cozy café, and “Big Dippers” ice cream shop provided us with the spectacle of Eric Galdo attempting (unsuccessfully) to conquer the “Supernova” dish comprised of six scoops of ice cream, two large brownies and six toppings. A noble effort to be sure.

We also had a friendship visit in town with a local group facility which housed people of varying disabilities. Some of these individuals had very severe disabilities, yet you could tell they understood what was going on and were doing their best to communicate with you. The barriers in terms of comprehension were somewhat frustrating, but all parties involved put their best foot forward and I observed some connections definitely made. I ended the night by speaking with Jim, a wise older man who told me about his Kentucky roots, his army stint in Nuremburg, and his travels to all but two of the 50 states. He still has Hawaii and Alaska to look forward to and, as I told him when I left, I know he’ll be seeing them in the near future.