Bonneville Salt Flats

June 17.

I had a really great day on the 16th riding into Wendover.  There were a couple of very long hills that I climbed without dismounting.  (If you’ve ridden with me, you know that hill-climbing is not my strength.)  When I reached the top of the last one, there was a view of the salt flats down below that was amazing.  It was a wonderful day.

In the evening, though, I had the wind totally knocked out of me.  Perhaps I should have expected this would happen at some time.  After all, I am out here doing something completely out of the ordinary.  Though it’s very exciting, it’s also quite difficult.  On top of that, I have had problems with my teeth and I am technically homeless.  My cats are in Logansport, IN.  My dog is in El Dorado, KS.  My mail is going to KS.  Most of my worldly goods are in IA.  And I went through all those changes very shortly before I set off on this adventure.

We had a team meeting, the purpose of which was to present a problem–the support team is being stretched too thin.  Unfortunately, the suggested remedies were all focused on getting the slow people to either speed up or to ride in the van for the first part of the day and thereby get a head start.  Being pretty much the slowest person on the tour (someone has to be the slowest), I ended up crying inconsolably.  I hate crying in front of people, but we basically have no privacy.  A couple of the others who are often near the back were angry.

I worked really hard to get to the standard that the Bike Adventure advertised: averaging 12 mph and able to go 20 or 25 miles without long stops.  I am in the best shape of my life.  And I have been amazed at the end of these days with long climbs to discover that I am still averaging over 12 mph.  So I felt like the rules had been changed and that I had been lied to.   I felt like I had been told I shouldn’t even try if I wasn’t absolutely sure I could complete the day’s ride.  (Remember I am telling you how I felt.  I don’t think that was necessarily what was meant.)

The next day we had a 94 mile ride along the salt flats, with a strong crosswind/headwind, which would have been tremendously difficult in the best of spirits.  I could hardly speak the words when I asked Grace to put my bike on the carrier.  Later in the morning, I called a good friend and advisor from back home who listened sympathetically and then told me she was proud of me for taking the van!  She said it would have been a cruel thing to make myself ride in that condition.  And she reminded me that, truly, I am on a spiritual journey.  God is able to work miracles within us when we have reached the limits of our own strength.  I have experienced it before, so I know it is true.  “When I am powerless, than I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10)  After getting support from back home, I was able to have a good day, and even play around a bit.

My original dream was to ride every mile.  That dream was already busted when my crown fell out on the second or third day.  But I am on a pilgrimage, and I am not in control of everything on the journey.