I’ve been back from my trip now for a few weeks. I haven’t quite figured out how to write about this latest tour. The trip itself was fantastic. It wasn’t easy, nor was it always fun, never was it boring. What makes writing about this tour difficult, is the basis on which I left town. Sharing the personal details isn’t an option here – respecting personal privacy is a must.

As I left on my tour, I had a feeling that I’d be returning to circumstances which would be changing the lives of whom I hold closest to my heart. The environment in our worlds, oftentimes, change very slowly that we don’t notice the minute changes taking place. However, when our environment begins shifting rapidly emotions can overcome, and control our thoughts.

The morning I climbed onto my steed, clicking into the pedals for a thousand mile journey upon the saddle of my bicycle, trepidation was felt. I’ve always felt uneasiness in the bottom of my stomach as I leave town; I feel it every single year I depart on these awesome journeys. This year though, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach remained. It’s still alive today.

Accepting the things I cannot change, is always the hardest. I like the illusion of being in control. I like having information. I pack for the unexpected. I pack for the just in case. But I left knowing that, if I came back home to adverse news, there wouldn’t be a way I could pack for it. There would be no illusion of control, as this time, I’d be on the sidelines – an inactive participant.

Now here I sit – waiting, listening, hoping, praying, things will stay the way they’ve always been. But that’s impossible, so at this time, writing about bicycling just isn’t in the forefront of my brain.

Sometimes pictures tell a better story, it’s just too bad that I’m a terrible photographer.

Soon I will sit down and write about some of the amazing(s) that happened on the journey.

I left on a Surly Long Haul Trucker, named Black Magic.

I came home with a Disc Trucker, which has yet earned a title.

Vancouver to Estacada with support.

And then it started to rain!

From Estacada through the woods to Santiam Pass, Oregon.

Three Sisters, from Redmond, Oregon

Leaving Prineville, Oregon.  I’d meet a fellow tourist named Rob here.

Oregon HWY 26 east of Prineville. For some reason John Prine songs were in my head on this day.

On the way to Mitchell, Oregon

Camp at Mitchell

Seeger (with hat) Rob right.

camping with car hoppers and motorcyclists.

Prepping for a session.

Fossil Beds

old graveyards

lunch stop

heading to Baker City towing a wagon

Baker City beyond them hills.

The city where Black Magic said, I shall fight no more!

Black Magic’s last stand!

Drying out from one of the many storms that found me in Baker City

Storms

Headed east to pick this guy up.

Biketouringnews  A fantastic place.  They got me moving again.

East of Baker on the way to Halfway, Oregon

Richland, Oregon

Hells Canyon

Dawn, I started cycling at 02:30 am.

Weiser River Trail

Another early start

Chilling out while the storms pass just in front of me.

Left the General Lee at home.

Yes, they had complimentary beer.  I checked, however i didn’t stay there.

More Hells Canyon recreational area.

Old Mines along US HWY 95

Salmon River

Peanut butter and jam at the silver dollar in White Bird, ID.

My first ever pubic performance.

FYI, I found “Silver Dollar” to be a popular tavern name.

White Bird

White Bird

camping at the city park in White Bird

This wasn’t Guy’s first public appearance.

Lots of fun this day.

White Bird Canyon

Down there, is White Bird, ID.

and going, and going and going…

and going and going and going…

still climbing up the hill

and going…

Done like dinner.

Grangeville is across the prairie.

A haunted Log cabin along the Clearwater River in the Bitterroot Mountains.

I saw no Gold in the Clearwater

Final night of camping happened behind this store.

Atop Lolo Pass

Missoula, MT