G.A.S.P.

(Great Adventures to Scenic Places)

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July 27, 1999

Between last evening and this morning (7-27), I had a really productive time without ever setting my rear end on the bicycle. I talked to Becky, Aaron and Mom on the phone, successfully sent photos and text to Becky (E-mail), sent eight other E-mail messages, got a haircut and beard trim, bought and mailed two birthday cards and "wired" flowers to Mom (birthday).

I didn’t get out of Helena until after noon, but it didn’t really matter as my campground for the night was only 40 miles away near Wolf Creek. Good thing it wasn’t a long day because the thermometer topped out at 99 degrees this afternoon.

I spent the early part of the ride trying to dodge grasshoppers – thousands of them on the shoulder of I-15 going North out of Helena. After a while, I stopped trying to dodge them because they always seemed to jump out of harms way at the very last second (much like the Mourning Doves back home). Oops, one jumped just as I swerved a little, and I think … well maybe I …. I didn’t look back, or down at my front tire for awhile (didn’t want to see squished grasshopper going round and round).

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Near Wolf Creek, I came through a pass and started a long downhill. It was one of those places where I couldn’t figure out just where the road was going to go three or four miles hence. All of the surrounding ground was higher and there was no evidence of the highway going over it, but also no evidence of any "break" in the mountains to let me out. Finally, a sharp right turn, and a narrow canyon opened up. It was beautiful Little Prickly Pear Creek Canyon that lasted for several miles all the way to Wolf Creek. The canyon and the mountains in the area caused me to conclude that whoever wrote the words to the song America must have been in this part of Montana to witness the "purple mountain’s majesty".