Day 49 Prairie Wind to Pine Ridge

 Center for Reconciliation 

Day 49 Prairie Wind to Pine Ridge

    The Prairie Wind Casino is located within the Pine Ridge Reservation by 30 miles to the town of Pine Ridge.  The reservation itself is the size of state of Connecticut with a population of 50,000.  The town itself contains around 4,000 people and is the only town of any size within the reservation boundaries.  It also has the distinction of being the poorest town in country,

     I stayed as a guest of Center for Reconciliation which has been located in town for many years and has earned the respect and support of both the tribal authorities and of state agencies.  I am grateful to Pastor Dan Johnson who serves as their director who welcomed me and has been very generous with his time.

     When I arrived, he drove me around the town to show me how the community has evolved.  There is a tribal hospital and some lovely houses surrounding it.  These houses stand in marked contrast to the majority of dwellings one sees scattered around the town center.  There are houses which are boarded up because the crystal meth once produced in them has seeped into the walls rendering the place uninhabitable.  There are three bedrooms, one bathroom houses housing an extended family of 20.  Many of the homes lack heating and plumbing.

     In my conversation with Dan and some of the staff at the center, I have discovered that the violence, cynicism, greed, racism and cruelty which have shaped this reservation have been integrated into the culture which now resides here.   It is understandable that the Lakota people should be suspicious and hostile to the white government which has created the state of affairs.  What is not so obvious is that this cynicism and greed has become a defining quality of the tribal government as well.  There is much graft and misdirection of funding evident in the running of this town.  One can see how obstructionist tactics in the pursuit of power demonstrated in our federal government can be seen scaled down and operative in this much smaller government.

     The center where I am staying serves as a shelter for the large homeless population here.  The city has recently closed the municipal shelter over arguments about funding.  The churches have picked up the slack and have been insuring that this vulnerable segment of the population does not die of exposure.  When I arrived here last night I discovered twelve homeless persons and seven dogs hanging around the entrance to the center.  They were all amused by me, my bike, and my trailer entering their turf.

     The center for reconciliation (see link below) does not encourage work trips from outside groups.  They are not interested in having outside persons waltzing in and fixing something.  They are interested in having interested person come to hear the stories of those who lives have been shaped by our history and this place.  There many examples of both cruelty and courage to be found in this place.  You can find people who have been a source of hope and resilience at a time when this is a scarce commodity. 

     There has recently been an institute of higher education established on the reservation.  Those who leave Pine Ridge to study elsewhere in the region discover a racist and hostile environment.   Scholars from neighboring Universities come and teach in town which enables folks to earn a college degree in a familiar environment. 

https://www.pineridgereconciliationcenter.org/

https://vimeo.com/556266468

Prairie Wind Casino

 

Day 48 Hot Springs to Prairie Winds

 Road to Pine Ridge

Day 48 Hot Springs to Prairie Winds

     I had contacted folks in Pine Ridge reservation and Wounded Knee about meeting with some members of their communities.  The route from Hot Springs to Prairie winds was 60 miles across some rather rough terrain, so I started searching for a place where I could pitch a tent.

     This is a very remote part of the country and there are very few places where one might discretely camp.  There are no towns and few buildings.  However, in the middle of a very isolated piece of road there is a Tribal Casino which is 30 miles from any town.  It is the most elegant (and least expensive) hotel I have stayed at on this journey.  The gambling offsets the cost of the room and meals.  If you are not into gambling, it is the best deal around.

     Every day in the late afternoon violent thunder storms appear.  I was not able to make it to the hotel before the lightening began, but I was able to stop in a country store in Oelrichs (population 117).  Over a cup of coffee I chatted with the lady who worked there about the region.   Although she had never been on the reservation (10 miles away), she maintains that those who live there are lazy, greedy, and cruel.  It gave me an insight into how the indigenous people are viewed by those of European ancestry living in the surrounding community.

Buffalo Gap National Grasslands

 

Deacon Linda Valandra in Hot Springs, South Dakota

 

Day 47 Hill City to Hot Springs South Dakota

 Chantal, a Lakota Woman who transported me and my stuff over some gnarly hills.

Day 47 Hill City to Hot Springs South Dakota

     While in Hill City, I planned out the next several weeks of travel.  Upon departure I headed south from Hill City through Custer and Crazy Horse.  The kind people at St. Luke’s, Hot Springs had invited me to spend the night there and I am very grateful for their hospitality.  I suffered from mechanical problems after the first hour.  To my amazement and pleasure, I was able to call upon my bike mechanic class to fix it.  It did add a few hours to my day.

      For reasons which remain mysterious to me, the GPS led me along a very mysterious road.  I biked across the Buffalo Gap National Grassland on what was once a road, but it was not discernable to my eyes. The grass was waist high and difficult for biking.  I eventually arrived at a gravel quarry far removed from any sign of life.  It was a relief to see something resembling a road though with a red clay surface.  It was hard biking, but at least I could see that I was heading somewhere.

   After a few miles, a young Lakota woman in a pickup truck pulled over and informed me that there were some “pretty gnarly hills” ahead and offered to drive me, my bike, and cart to the highway.  Insofar as I was already 2 hours late in arriving in Hot Springs, I accepted with gratitude.   Along the way I asked why there is a gravel pit so far away from any transportation network.  She informed me that this was sacred land and only small portions were made available for excavation.  It must eventually be planted over with indigenous vegetation and returned to its natural state.  “In ten years, you will not be able to tell it was here”.  She told me that she has driven this road much over the course of her life and has never seen a cyclist travelling.  I informed her that I am a bit odd, and she agreed.

    

    We reached highway 283 and I was grateful to see asphalt once again and relieved that the 5 remaining miles were down hill.  While we were unloading my gear, a police car pulled over and asked if all was well.  She informed her that she was picking up odd hitch-hikers and they gave him a kiss.  I thought this was odd bordering on the inappropriate.  However, after the cruiser pulled away she informed me that he was her fiancé.  I asked her if I could take her picture for my blog, to which she consented with a bit of confusion.

I was met there by Linda Valandra, who serves as a deacon for St. Luke’s, Hot Springs.  She had made me some fried chicken, potato salad, fruit and cookies which I consumed voraciously.  She is a warm and thoughtful woman who spoke of the development of mutual ministry in their small congregation.   Traditionally (at least for the past few centuries), congregations would call upon a full time priest who functions as a CEO for the church community.  In many places, the salary of the priest is the lion’s share of the congregation’s budget.  Realizing that such a model is poor financial stewardship for the church, the congregation (with the help of the Diocese) decided to de-centralize power.  They operated on the assumption that everyone has unique skills, gifts, and talents and that love is most clearly expressed when everyone is invited to contribute to the common good.  The identified and empowered the ministries to which people feel called and provided education and resources to equip them to do this.    Consequently, they are able to have a vibrant Christian community with no paid staff.  They operate on the principle that “In the good ship Ecclesia, there are no passengers-there is only crew”.

      I was inspired and touched by this example and thought about what this might saying to me about how to become a more inclusive community.

Community of Trans-Continental Cyclists

 

Community of Trans-Continental Cyclists

     It came as a surprise to me to discover that there are thousands of people cycling across the U.S. over the course of the summer.  Many towns have set up green spaces for tired cyclist to spend the night.  Outside of Custer, South Dakota I was tickled to see the city park with a tent marked “Front Desk”  which served as a welcome center.

      This great movement of sojourners made me think of  Grapes of Wrath with the campgrounds which sprung up across the U.S. South West.  The cyclists, however, are by and large financially secure and are inspired by things other than terror.

 Sometimes clusters of people who have been travelling separately coalesce into cycling pod.  In Dubois I met a 50 year old man from Indiana who had met up with a 22 year old man from North Carolina and a 40 year old man from The Netherlands.  In cycling through Wyoming they encountered a 10 mile stretch of highway which was under construction.  The highway department offered to drive them and their bikes the length of the construction zone for their own safety.  The young man declined citing that would take away from his bragging rights for cycling across the country in its entirety.  Sometimes I am grateful that sometimes wisdom and humility come with age.

Day 45 Rapid City to Hill City

 

Day 45 Rapid City to Hill City

     I rode my bike from Rapid City to Hill City which is nestled in the Black Mountains.  It is a beautiful region populated with kind and caring people.  It is also up a significant incline.  I missed my electric bike as I pedaled up a 40 mile climb.  The scenery was wonderful. 

     I decided to spend two nights in a motel in Hill City and plan out the next three weeks of my trip with some detail.  I also wanted to bike up to Mount Rushmore unencumbered with my heavy bike cart.  The Michelson trail is a 70 mile bike trail which runs north and south along the western edge of South Dakota.  It offers spectacular views of the unique geology and forests of the region.  It also has a spur which will take you up Mount Rushmore. 

     The region has many museums and historical markers which offer competing narratives of the events which have shaped the region.  The trail passes through the towns of Custer and Crazy Horse and eventually leads to the town of Hot Springs. 

      At the hotel I had conversation with the manager about the social and economic forces which have shaped the region.  She was very nice to me and was eager to speak about the concerns which were pressing on her consciousness.  She had always lived in the region and did not feel a strong pull to travel great distances.  When I asked her what her hopes for the near future of the country, she responded “I would like to live in a place when I am not made to feel ashamed for being white, heterosexual American”.  When I asked her “Do you feel ashamed now?”  She looked at me with incredulity and responded “everything I read, hear, or see is intended to make me ashamed.”  As I cycled up to Mount Rushmore I was wondering how such shame might be lifted. 

Day 44 Casper to Rapid City

 After the Eucharist at Emmanuel Church, Rapid City

Day 44 Casper to Rapid City, South Dakota

     I consulted the Wyoming weather report and discovered that there would be violent thunder storms across the eastern part of the state.  I then studied the map considering possible routes to be taken between Casper and Spearfish, South Dakota.  I realized that there was still 130 miles across the Wyoming prairies where seldom is heard a discouraging word.  This is because there are no human beings to utter them.  Any discouraging  words would emanate from one’s own head.  I violated some of my own principles for the cause of self preservation and basic common sense, and rented a car and driving to northwestern Wyoming.  I then discovered that there are no places in northwestern Wyoming to drop off a car.  My only option was Rapid City, South Dakota. 

    This was disappointed because it would mean that I would miss some the sights along the way.  It did, however, put me back on schedule enabling me to meet up with family members in Chicago by the end of July.

      Rapid City is a rapidly growing city which services a very large region of the country.  During Covid, the governor decided to forgo most covid restrictions.  This became most evident in the gathering of thousands of motorcyclists in Sturgis, SD at the height of the pandemic.  It also created a significant real estate boom for folks from California and Texas who were seeking the freedom they felt they were denied in their home states.  The clerk at the front desk of the hotel said that they were going to tweak the motto of New Hampshire and proclaim “Live Free and Die”.   In any event, this provided another example on the high value placed on rugged individualism.

       It was a joy to join in worship with the good folks at Emmanuel Church, Rapid City on Sunday morning.  Among the congregants was a youth group from Birmingham, Michigan.  They also, were on a pilgrimage to see some parts of the country.  They were intrigued that someone as old as me would opt to ride a bike for such a distance and asked to have a picture taken with me.  Their leader asked if I could tell them one story about what I have learned along the way.  I thought “that is a very large lake from which I am asked to pull out a fish”.  I spoke of the hospitality extended to me by strangers in remote places.   

Day 42 Drive from Dubois to Casper

Drive From Dubois to Casper “On Loneliness”

 

     I enjoyed the four hour drive from Dubois to Casper.  It was a delight to chat with Pamela as we drove to her graduation and spoke of her ordination the following day.   We spoke of sense of isolation and loneliness which has gripped our culture and has been so much worse during Covid.   I was thinking about novel, The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury.  In the story we are told that the psychological and spiritual force which propelled a fictitious journey to Mars was “The Great Lonliness” 

     As we watched the landscape slowly transform from snow capped mountains to rolling hills to grassy prairies, we listened to the podcast On Being in which Krista Tippet interviews Vivek Murthy, the U.S. surgeon general about our epidemic of loneliness. 

    In the interview, Murthy spoke of loneliness being pressing health crises.  I commend the interview with you (see link below).  Even before Covid, many were feeling the profound burden of social isolation which is a major contributing factor to mental and physical distress.  

   Among the correctives for loneliness, Murthy suggests, is incorporated periods of solitude.  This is very counter-intuitive.  “If I am really lonely, do I really need more time alone?”  He explains:

“….But loneliness is not so much about how many people you have around you. It’s about whether you feel like you belong. It’s about whether you truly know your own value and feel like you are connected to other people. It’s about the quality of your relationships with others and yourself. The solitude is important because it’s in moments of solitude, when we allow the noise around us to settle, that we can truly reflect, that we can find moments in our life to be grateful for. But those moments of solitude have become increasingly rare because all of the white space in our life has been filled by our devices. Back in the day when I was waiting for a bus, that’s the time I would just sit down and I would think.”

  He also shared during a very dark time in his own life, a friend told him

“Vivek, you know what your problem is?” She said, “Your problem is not that you don’t have friends.” She said, “Your problem is you’re not experiencing friendships.” She said, “If you called any one of those people you had lost touch with, they’d be more than happy to talk to you, much happier than you realize.” So she said, “You have to get over your shame and your sense of embarrassment at not being in touch and just reach out. And you’ll find that people are also hungry for human connection.”

 

  He concluded the interview with a kind of benediction which I very much needed to hear.

 

“…raise your right hand and place it over your heart and close your eyes. And I want you to think about the people who have loved you over the years, the people who have been there for you during difficult times, who have supported you without judging you, and who stood by your side even when it was hard. Think about the people who have celebrated your moments of greatest joy with you, the people who saw your successes as theirs, the people who derived such pleasure and fulfillment from seeing you happy. Just feel their love flowing through you, lifting you up, brightening your mood, and filling your heart. And know that that love is always there, even if they are not physically with you, because you carry that love in your heart. And know that you are and always will be worthy of that love. It came to you because you deserved it.

And now open your eyes.

What you felt in that brief meditation, that was the power of love. That is the power of social connection. That is our birthright. It’s who we were designed to be and what we were designed to experience. All of us, regardless of what walk of life we’re in, we have the ability to shine a light on the bright spots. Whether those are relationships that bring joy or movements in our community that are helping grow connection — it’s where we choose to focus our attention, it’s where we use our power to focus the attention of others that ultimately determines whether or not we create more light in the world or more darkness.

But I just want all of you to know, just as I want my own children to know, just as I remind myself as well, that we are all worthy of love and connection. Even in those moments where we feel that we perhaps aren’t. Even those moments where we feel like we’re the only one who might be struggling. The truth is we are not alone. There are others out there who want what we want. A world that is more connected. A world where we can actually be there for one another. A world that’s actually powered by love. And that is within our grasp. We only have to see it, to name it, and to start taking actions in our day-to-day lives to build that world and reflect those values”

   I was grateful that we were in the car looking forward so that she could not see the tears welling up in my eyes.

 

See full interview

https://onbeing.org/programs/vivek-murthy-to-be-a-healer/

Two Ocean Lake

 

At the top of the Continental Divide there is a lake called Two Ocean Lake. All of the waters west of the lake flow into the Pacific ocean, and the rivers on the east side flow into the Gulf of Mexico. I found it fascinating as a cycled along to witness the change in the direction of the river flow. Here is the mis-named Warm River in Dubois

One of the mysterious pools in Yellowstone

 

Three Days at the St. Thomas bike Shelter

 

Hiking in the Grand Tetons with Jennifer and Ted

 

Day 39-41 Dubois, Wyoming

 

Day 39-41

Dubois, Wyoming (Population 1000)

      As mentioned earlier we spent a glorious week in the Grand Tetons.  Denise arrived and we were later joined by my sister Jennifer and her husband Ted.  Though the weather was cold and raining much of the time, it did not prevent us from seeing the glorious landscape revealed in that magical place.  Jennifer was able to take loads of photos and sent them to me at the end of her stay.  After Ted and Jennifer returned to California, I went to visit Yellowstone National Park with Denise.

      I had worked at Yellowstone 45 years ago, and it was nostalgic to me to see some of this place which continues to astonish me.  The hot springs around Old Faithful give one a glimpse into the enormous power which often lies hidden beneath the earth’s surface.  The multi-color pools which are constantly boiling have a mystical quality.

     On Tuesday morning, Denise drove me 20 miles from our Hotel and dropped me off at top of the continental divide near Moran, Wyoming.  It was 37 degrees (Fahrenheit) with ice pellets pelting upon us.  I was grateful that I had over 30 miles of downhill on a road with wide shoulder.  I squinted my eyes and sped down the hill comforting myself with the knowledge that every mile I travelled would bring me into a warmer environment.

      When I arrived in Dubois (which is locally pronounced dew boise) the sun had come up and the air had warmed to 60 degrees.  When I reached St. Thomas Church I was able to peel off my soaking wet clothes and have a warm shower.

     Upon arrival I was greeted by several members of the community here.  Pamela Glasser, a delightful candidate for ordination sponsored by the parish and took me, the priest (Bob McNamara) and his wife (Joan McNamara) out to a wonderful dinner at the Cowboy Café where I had one of most wonderful pieces of pie I have ever tasted.

     Pamela invited me to her graduation from seminary on Friday in Casper and offered to drive me, my bike, and my gear there.  I accepted her gracious offer which brings over another mountain range and gives me 3 days in beautiful Dubois.

     For several years, St. Thomas church has maintained a shelter for hikers and bikers who are travelling through the region.  While I arrived I met a man from New Orleans who was hiking the trail along the continental divide.  On the second night there were cross country cyclists from Indiana, North Carolina, the U.K. and the Netherlands.  I have discovered that there is a large network of people on long distance bike trips who tell each other of warm and safe places to stay along the journey.  The young man from Birmingham, England had cycled from Alaska to Argentina the year before with his father and decided to travel by himself from Oregon to Washington, D.C.  Two young men from Utrecht were students earning a degree in outdoor recreation and were writing a book about their cross country trip as their thesis.  My fellow shelter residents were all travelling from East to West.  They were travelling at various speeds and had encountered each other many times along their route.  I alone was travelling west to East.  We exchanged information about the roads we would take.

     On Tuesday night there was a delightfully raucous square dance at the church which drew people from the outlying areas.  On Thursday night there is a weekly jam session for local musicians.  I was disappointed that I was not able to bring my guitar along to participate.  Though this is a small town, they have an amazing ability to create their own recreation.  I will be sad to leave here tomorrow, but I will be glad to start biking again.

Priestly Peregrinations

 

“You can kiss your family and friends goodbye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you”

-Frederick Buechner

    Denise dropped me off at the top of the continental divide in the freezing rain.  She felt guilty and I felt sad about her going away.  I proceeded coasting down the 40 mile incline towards the town of Dubois.  Enroute, I found a rustic lodge which gave free cups of coffee to cyclist for which I was very grateful.  There I met cyclists from Brazil and Oregon and we took comfort in each other’s company.  The Brazilian cyclist shared his anxiety for the stability of his country after their recent election.  The Oregonian expressed anxiety about his country as we prepare for our upcoming election.  They both admitted that those anxieties seem very abstract when wet and cold on bikes.  These concerns seemed less important as we derived sustenance from the hot coffee and the kindness which it represented.

     Along this trip I have been thinking of several books I have read about priestly peregrinations (a delightful word meaning contemplative wanderings).  Although the characters are different than me, they all describe the inward journey experienced as the wander around stripped of their clerical identity.

    The first book is Monsignor Quixote, by Graham Greene.  Fr. Quixote was a parish priest in the little town of El Toboso in Spain’s La Mancha region.  He regards himself as a descendant of Cervantes’ character of the same name, even though people constantly point out to him that Don Quixote was a fictitious character.   His bishop, always suspicious of Quixote’s eccentricities, encourages him to take an extended holiday.  And so, he embarks upon a voyage through Spain in his old car named “Rocinante”.  He is joined by a disgraced communist ex-mayor of El Toboso (who, of course is nicknamed “Sancho”.  In the subsequent course of events, Quixote and his companion have all sorts of funny and moving adventures along the lines his ancestor’s on their way through post-Franco Spain.  They encounter the contemporary equivalents of the windmills, are confronted with holy and not-so-holy places and with sinners of all sorts.  In their dialogues about Catholicism and Communism, the two men are brought closer, start to appreciate each other better but also to question their own beliefs. 

    When Quixote dies, Greene puts into Sancho’s mouth one of the most powerful sentences in English Literature.

“…Why is it that the hate of man-even a man like Franco-dies with his death, and yet love, which he had begun to feel for Father Quixote, seemed now to live and grow in spite of the final separation and the final silence-for how long, he wondered with kind of fear, was it possible for that love to continue? And to what end?”

     The second book I began to ponder as I pedaled was the Novel “Via Negativa” by Daniel Horsby.  He describes a Father Dan, a homeless priest travelling across the country.  Dismissed by his conservative diocese for eccentricity and insubordination, he’s made his exile into a kind of pilgrimage transforming his Toyota Camry into a mobile monk’s cell.  He journeys across the United States, taking a route that is not at all direct.  Father Dan listens to compact discs of the artist Prince, in whom he hears “a real mystical theology.”  He tracks his course on an old –fashioned road atlas.  He’s a baby boomer, a sincere one.  “All priests are supposed to be with out homes,” he reflects, probably to make himself feel better.

   The third novel, which I am reading when I am taking a break from cycling, is Foy: On the Road to Lost by Gordon Atkinson.  Foy is a Baptist pastor who can no longer make sense of the religious world into which he has born.  His wife files for divorce and his congregation suggests he take some time to reflect.  He takes a strange bus journey to the heart of New Orleans which marks an exit from a familiar life and a rebirth into a new reality.  He finds, however, the secular world is a strange and lonely place. His identity as a clergyman is more deeply embedded in his soul than he thought.

     I am not like any of the characters in the novels above.  I am travelling with the blessing of my congregation and bishop.  My wonderful wife supports me on my journey and has been a continual source of support.  I miss her. 

     What does resonate with my soul is this opportunity to step out of my role while meeting the many kind persons along the way.  Listening to folks I would never have met if not for this pilgrimage, have taught much about the wonderfully complex, beautiful, and surprising world through which I am pedaling.  I am also discovering much about myself.

Day 39 Crossing the Divide

 

Day 39 Crossing the Divide   

     Denise dropped me off on the continental divide before returning to the airport.  It was sad to say goodbye.   We had a glorious 10 days in the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone.  I shall post these later.

    At the divide it was 35 degrees and pouring rain.  However, it was a 30 mile descent to Dubois, Wyoming where I am spending the night.  I am grateful for St. Thomas, Episcopal Church in Dubois which maintains a shelter for hikers and cyclists.  The literal and metaphorical warmth has thawed the marrow of my bones.

Jennifer and Ted

   My sister, Jennifer, and her husband, Ted joined us in Jackson.  We will be camping in the Grand Tetons for several days and without internet.

Limited Access to Paradise

 

    Wilson, Wyoming (like Austin, Ann Arbor, Ames, and Missoula) is a blue town in a very red state.  It is stunningly beautiful and is filled with beautiful people.  The abundance of opportunities for outdoor recreation seems overwhelming.  It appears that everyone in town is ice climbing, skiing, hiking, golfing, rafting, hunting, or fly fishing.  An afternoon spent drinking in the view is time well spent.  It is also the town in the United States with the highest income.

     Housing prices in liberal cities, such the Boston metropolitan area where I currently live, are the most expensive in the country.  Few visible minorities can afford the price of admission.  One of the great ironies of our current age is that those who live in these cities are great advocates of diversity and inclusion.  Often, the price tag for admissions is an obstacle for those they would like to include.  This fact saddens me and I am looking for a way in which we can be as inclusive as we claim to be.

     I think of the city of Marblehead, north of Boston.  It is filled with beautiful Victorian Mansions festooned with Black Lives Matter placards.  It would surprise me if many persons of color have ever lived there.  It appears that places where people cry out most loudly for social justice are the same places where social injustice is most clearly evident.

     How might we take the plank out of our own eye so that we can be demonstrate the compassion we claim to have?

Denise has arrived!

 

I am looking forward to spending a week with Denise.  My sister, Jennifer and her husband, Ted arrive tomorrow.

Hostel in Jackson, Wyoming

 

Day 27 One of the many lovely homes in Wilson, Wyoming

 

Biking across the Snake River in Wilson, Wyoming

 

Day 26-29 Wilson, Wyoming

 

“In Ireland, you go to someone’s house, and she asks you if you want a cup of tea. You say no, thank you, you’re just fine.  She asks if you are sure.  You say of course you’re sure, really you don’t need a thing.  Except they pronounce it ting.  You don’t need a ting.  Well, she says then, I was going to get myself some anyway, so it would be no trouble.  Ah, you say, well, if you were going to get yourself some, I wouldn’t mind a spot of tea at that, so long as it’s no trouble and I can give you a hand in the kitchen.  Then you go through the whole thing over again until you both end up in the kitchen drinking tea and chatting. 

In America, someone asks you if you want a cup of tea, you say no, and then you don’t get any damned tea

I like the Irish way better

-C.E. Murphy, Urban Shaman

 

     I am grateful for the organization Warm Showers which encourages folks to offer hospitality to bikers and hikers who are on long journeys.  It was through them that I had made contact with Len Carlman, a Quaker in Wilson, Wyoming requesting a bed for the night.  When I had to change my travel plans, I called him and asked if I could move my stay to a day later.  He responded that he would be out of town but he would make inquiries in the community.  Later that day he responded by saying that Christine and Erich Wilbrecht would be happy to host me.  I thought “why is it that one stranger reaches out to another stranger to offer me shelter?”.  I have been pondering this and considering how wonderful this is.

     I do not think that I present myself as a pitiful soul.  I have camping gear and a credit card and have other options.   I have savings and several people who have offered financial support for my journey.  I proceed on the assumption that there are kind souls in the world who want to offer hospitality.  It is hard to discern how to construct boundaries that are clear enough to avoid being burdensome, but porous enough to allow meaningful conversation.

     Henri Nouen, in his book,  Reaching Out; The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life writes:

“Hospitality means primarily the creation of free space where the stranger can enter and become a friend instead of an enemy.  Hospitality is not to change people, but to offer them space where change can take place.  It is not to bring men and women over to our side, but to offer freedom not disturbed by dividing lines.”

     So I arrived at the Wilbrecht house on Tuesday evening refreshed by my downhill coast from the top of the Teton Pass.  Upon arrival, I shared with them that Denise will be arriving in Jackson in 4 days and I can camp in the Tetons until she arrives.  They invited me to stay in their lovely home, and I was touched by their generosity.   I decided after the first night that I would spend one night in the hostel in Jackson and return for the remaining two nights.  I did so because I sense that I am a person who can be charming for 3 days after which time I become less so. 

     They found this a bit odd, but invited me to do whatever makes me most comfortable.   There is a lovely youth hostel which looks a lot like berths in a sleeping car.  Though we were not given much personal space, it was interesting to see folks from all over the world gather in the common room.

      The Wilbrechts are lovely people.  I am very grateful for their kind hospitality.  I am struck by the fact that the people who live in this region of Idaho and Wyoming are all so very healthy.  After graduating from Dartmouth, Erich worked as a fly fishing guide here in the Tetons and has been on fly fishing trips in New Zealand, Argentina, and Belize.  He has been on canoe trips in the Canadian arctic and has golfed in Scotland.  He skis both in the Tetons (outside his front door) and in the Swiss Alps.  He goes hunting in Saskatchewan and in the U.S. Southwest.  Erich and Chris currently work together as real estate agents for the region and have an intimate knowledge of opportunities for outdoor recreation.  

    Wilson is 6 miles from Jackson and along the Snake River.  Wealthy people from all over the world gravitate towards this stunning spot.  Liz Cheney lives a few doors down and her parents also live in the neighborhood.  According to IRS data, Wilson, Wyoming is ranked number 1 in the U.S. adjusted average gross income ($296,778)

      It was nice to be off my bike for a few days and to go hiking along the many trails to be found here.  While hiking along the Phillips Ridge trail, I found a sign indicating that we should make noises as we walked in order to scare off the bears.  I started singing Beethoven’s 5^th symphony (bellowing bum,bum,bum,bum) while waving my arms.  I encountered another hiker along the way who joined me.  We acted as if this was the most normal thing in the world. 

    Although it has a population of 1,500 folks, they all seem to be at the local restaurant where Erich and I had a wonderful dinner.  I am sorry that Chris had a scheduled trip to California with friends and could not join us.  Tomorrow, Denise arrives and I am looking forward to seeing her.  The next day, my sister, Jennifer, and her husband, Ted will be joining us.  As we are hiking around in the National Park, I will not be writing so much over the next few days.

Day 25 Driggs-Victor

 At the top of the Teton Pass

Day 25

Driggs-Victor

   There is a lovely, flat bike trail from Driggs to Victor which made for very leisurely day.  After church, Mary baked some cookies and gave me some for my journey.  The trail along the valley gave spectacular views of the Tetons and is a well used for transportation and recreational.  I arrived in Victor two hours earlier than expected and treated myself to one of their “World famous Huckleberry Milkshakes” which was a delight.   Gene and Jenn Marcowka welcomed me into their elegant home which offered spectacular mountain views.

   Sadly, their beautiful dog, Darly, was suffering from a cancer which was in a very advanced state.  While there, they were pondering if the day had come to have her euthanized.  When evening came around, she perked up considerably, ate her dinner and enjoyed a brief walk.  It became clear that today was not going to be her last.

    Like many in the valley, Gene and Jenn retired early and moved to this valley because it offers such wonderful outdoor recreation.  Gene works on the board of the search and rescue operations in the Tetons as well as other non-profits devoted to making the outdoors accessible to all persons.  They are avid skiers and enjoy the opportunity to go back country skiing in some of the more remote hills in the region.  They have also been on extensive bike trips across the country and are grateful for the hospitality offered to them on their journeys.  They expressed how they have learned and have been shaped by some of the many people they have hosted in their home.

     I got up on Monday morning and started to psych myself up to tackling the Teton Pass.  This involved a steep climb of 2,500 feet along 9 miles of highway with little shoulder and then a 2,500 downhill along a bike path into Wilson, Wyoming.  After did my stretching and loaded up my bike, Jenn said “how about if I drive you in our truck to the top of the pass.”  I thought that this would make me into a slothful person.  I pushed this thought out of my head and accepted her very kind offer.  Every foot we travelled along the windy road increased my gratitude for this assistance.

    She dropped me off at the top and I had a glorious coast into Wilson arriving 4 hours early.  It was a wonderful day

Day 23 and 24-Driggs, Idaho

 Biking to Church

Day 23 and 24-Driggs, Idaho

 

     Driving over the Continental Divide has put me way ahead of my schedule.  I have  5 days to get to bike from Sugar City, Idaho to Jackson, Wyoming (75  miles) which allows me to be more leisurely in my journey.   After Mary Barton picked me up and drove me to their house in the pouring rain she invited me to stay with her family for 2 days.  I was touched by her generosity and gladly accepted her offer.

    Mary and Brad have 3 wonderful young boys; Henry, Leo, and Eli.   Eli, the oldest, is now 10.  They are all very involved in outdoor activities.  As a family they have biked the West Coast (Canada to Mexico) and across the Pacific Northwest.  Before becoming an electrician, Brad had been a professional white water rafting guide along many of the local rivers.  While staying with them, he taught me easier and more effective ways to adjust the disc brakes on my bike.

      They welcomed me to worship at their Mormon Church which was a lovely experience.  On the west side of the Teton pass, where the ground is more fertile, there is the highest concentration of Mormons in the country.  The Mormons tried to settle on the west side of the pass, but poor farm land made it less attractive to them.

    We all got up, dressed (Brad loaned me a tie), and biked together to their church being joined along the way by other cyclists heading to the same service.  The worship was lovely, opening with a sacramental sharing of bread and water (instead of wine) and inviting any who feel so moved to offer a testimony of the blessings they had received that week. 

   In the course of the worship, the read a pastoral letter of political neutrality which was read in all places of worship.  Some excerpts are:

The church does not:

·        Endorse, promote or oppose political parties and their platforms or candidates for public office.  

·        Advise its member on how to vote. 

·        Allow its church buildings membership lists or other resources be used for political purposes

The Church does

Encourage its members to engage in the political process in an informed and civil manner, respecting that fellow members of the Church come from a variety of backgrounds and experiences and may have differences of opinion in partisan political matters.  The Church also encourages its members to keep all communication (including on social media) respectful and aligned with Christ like behavior. 

    I found this a beautiful and helpful statement and one which encourages a conversation with is both respectful and honest.   I wonder if a secular version of this could be included o all election material and embraced by persons writing political commentaries.

     The sun came out during my second day in Driggs, and I was able to hike on one of the beautiful trails in the valley.