- "Climb the mountains and get their good
tidings.
-
- Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine
-
- flows into trees. The winds will blow their
own
-
- freshness into you, and the storms their energy,
-
- while cares drop off like autumn leaves."
-
- -John Muir
-
-
-
- Heading toward Glacier National Park in Montana, I had-
camped out at Flathead Lake on Route 93 the night before. It was -cool
sleeping in late July. The day warmed up as I headed into Kalispell.
I spent an hour in town picking up a new tube and- chain oil. The past
two weeks had been terrible flat tire luck. -Every thorn in Montana decided
to claim my rear tire as the -perfect resting-place for its sharp personality.
My spare -tube had so many patches it resembled the suction cups on an
octopus' tentacles.
-
- After loading up on bananas and a watermelon, I was ready
-for the 35-mile climb into Glacier Park. Before getting started, -I gobbled
four bananas. That made me hungry for the watermelon, so I cut it into
sections and ate them. People walking past -laughed as I hung the banana
skins on top of my rear pack under a -bungee cord. It looked like a fresh
kill of bananas. One couple -with their teenage daughter asked a lot of
questions as to how -much I ate. I told them on a 100-mile day on the
flats, I burned -between 7,000 calories. But my average daily distance
-was more like 60 to 70 miles.
-
- In the mountains, I average 50- miles per day, but still
burn a lot of calories because of the -foot pounds exerted in the climbs.
The highest mountain I ever- climbed was a pass in Bolivia at 15,500 feet
on a gravel road. -That burned a lot of calories in the thin air. But
the craziest day of my life was when I was talked into an insane 200-mile
day in New Mexico and Texas. My friends and I calculated that we -each
burned a total of 14,500 calories in 17 hours of riding.
-
- While I was talking, the girl's spirit brightened and
I -could see a sparkle in her eyes. I may have converted her to -world
bicycle touring. As they walked away, she tugged on her mom for permission
to go on a tour someday. I heard the mother reply,
-
- "That's for people with wanderlust, not you dear."
-
- I -wanted to catch them and correct the parent by telling
her that I -had met dozens of women bicycle touring in countries around
the- world. I wanted to say that everyone has that "wanderlust"
and- all they have to do is act on their dreams before they are convinced
by their friends or parents to do what's normal. -What's normal usually
means settling down and getting a job. I- was told when I was a teen to
"Do it while you're young, -because once you settle down, you've
got to take care of responsibilities." Whoever made that statement
was right.
-
- I -wish everyone could reserve their early 20's for world
travel, to- give them greater perspective about people and conditions around
-the globe. They would come home richer in spirit and -understanding.
They would have a greater environmental -appreciation for our fragile
planet. Furthermore, anyone can -ride a bicycle around the world if they
choose to do it. - However, long ago, I decided the best thing I could
do was keep -quiet and let people make their own choices. I have a secret
-wish for that girl: follow your thoughts and live your dreams.
-
- After gorging myself with watermelon, I looked four months
-pregnant. I waddled over to my bicycle. Moments later, sweat -poured
from me as I climbed a hill out of town. I was excited to -make Glacier
by nightfall.
-
- Up ahead, right in the middle of a side road, I saw a
man waving his cowboy hat at cars. As I drew closer, his thin -features
were covered in a red plaid shirt, worn jeans, and -pointed boots topped
off with a ten gallon, black Stetson.
-
- "You," he yelled, waving his hat
at me. "Come over here."
-
- "What's the problem?" I asked, not
wanting to be hassled.
-
- "Why in tarnation ain't you ridin' a horse, or drivin'
a- car, or anything besides that thar' bicycle?" he drawled, drunk
-as a skunk.
-
- "I like to go slow and I don't have to feed my bike
or put -gas into it," I said, stopping in front of him.
-
- "Well I'll be damned," he said, scratching
his scruffy black -beard, peppered with gray. "Ain't nothin' like
it used to be. -Well, I'll tell you what young fella'. I'm gonna' buy
you a -drink."
-
- "I don't drink, sir."
-
- "You don't drink?"
-
- "Nope."
-
- "Well, sir, would you set down at that bar over
yonder and- tell the Ugliest Man in Montana why you ride a bicycle instead
of -a horse?
-
- "Who is the ugliest man in Montana?"
-
- "You're lookin' at 'em and I'll prove
it."
-
- Even though he was drunk, he seemed interesting enough,
so I- walked my bike over to the bar he had mentioned. We walked into-
a log cabin that had stuffed animal heads on the walls, including -grizzly
bears, elk, moose, badgers, trout and geese. Traps, -guns, bows and arrows
rounded out the artillery that decorated- the back of the bar. I wanted
to sit down in one of the wooden -booths, but he was intent on leading
me to the bar. I quickly understood why. Up over the cash register was
a large picture of -a man with a rifle walking out of the woods dragging
a bear. It -was titled: "The Ugliest Man In Montana." The man
was my new-found friend.
-
- "That's you isn't it?"
-
- He cocked his head as he rubbed the hairs growing off
the -top of his nose, "Shore 'nuff, it's me, that bear was one of
the toughest fights of my life."
-
- "You fought a grizzly?"
-
- "It weren't but a few years back when I had to battle
the -meanest and hungriest bear in Montana. He was so big, that my- ole
friend Paul Bunyan wouldn't even come to help me."
-
- "No kidding," I said, realizing that I was
about to hear a -story.
-
- "Yep," he said. "I was cuttin'
timber one day, usin' a ten- pound ax, when this varmint comes into our
camp and headed for -the cook's tent. Well sir, them lumberjacks scattered
for fear -of their mangy lives. Not me 'cuz that bear made me mad......by
-the way, do you want to buy me a beer? My mouth is awful dry."
-
- "Bartender, give us a beer and a sarsaparilla,"
I said, -ready to pay a buck to hear this man's story. There was -something
about him that appealed to me. Even in his drunken -state, he had spunk.
-
- "As I was sayin', that bear had me upset because
he ate my- chicken and dumplins which didn't bother me none, but then that
-critter gulped down my blueberry pie. Now that got me all fired -mad.
Nobody eats my blueberry pie and gits away with it."
-
- "I can't blame you," I said, chuckling to myself
as this old- coot relived his story by swinging his arms and raising the
beer -to his lips for a swallow.
-
- "There he was slurppin' down my pie when I charged
into- camp. Soon as he saw me, he knowed he was in trouble 'cuz he- ceased
slurppin."
-
- "What'd you do?"
-
- "Why, I done what any self respectin' lumberjack
woulda' -done," he said, sweeping the hair out of his face. "I
ran over ta- where he was standin' and grabbed a-hold of his tail and bounced
'em betweenst a couple of trees. I thrashed 'em and I bashed 'em -and
then I thrashed 'em some more."
-
- "What was the bear doing during this bashing?"
I asked.
-
- "Whall, he was so ah scared for his life that he
crawled out -of his skin and ran off into the woods and nobody done ever
heard- of him agin."
-
- "You must have been a bit sore after the
fight weren't you?"
-
- "Whall now, I had a few calluses on my hands, but
nuthin' to -speak of....o' course, there was another time when I was face
to -face with this killer...."
-
- "That's okay, Ugly," I said, seeing his empty
beer glass, - which meant the next round was coming out of my pocket. "I've
got -to be getting down the road."
-
- "I guess yore right sonny."
-
- "By the way, what's your real name?"
-
- "You can call me, Ugly," he said.
"It don't matter what you -do in this life, as long as you're happy.
I'm happy bein' Ugly."
-
- A mile out of town, I was still chuckling to myself over
-Ugly. I never could understand what makes an alcoholic, but in -this case,
he had brightened my day with his bravado. In my -travels, I've seen rich
people, poor people, regular people--and- what Ugly said is true--the bottom
line in life is being happy.
-
- It's more important than anything else.
-
-
-
- Excerpt from: Bicycling Around the World: Tire Tracks
for Your Imagination by Frosty Wooldridge. Copies at 1 888 280 7715
|
