7/13/03 Sunday Jerome to Carey 58.2 miles. Day 1 Gallery We presented a novelty to the youth of Jerome. We must have violated their sense of ownership. Several raced through camp afoot and at least one revved his engine and drove back and forth through the parking lot. “Go Drew,” I heard someone shout. We Carey, the youth were less noisy but did managed to ratchet up the abuse with the “F” word. We had fewer problems once we got into the mountains. We discovered, however, that night is not necessarily dark, especially if you camp under a mercury-vapor light. So that became something else you checked out before pitching your tent. Let’s see, shade, level, ah yes, and no yard light. Perfect!

I heard someone’s alarm go off at 5 am. This became standard, though the alarm often didn’t get a chance to go off. Instead a symphony of tent zippers ripped up the dawn. Some broke camp before breakfast with a clatter of tent stakes. Others, trundled off to breakfast preferring coffee to an early start. Breakfast everywhere but this first morning was served by a local group such as the Knights of Columbus. We seemed always to have oat meal with raisins, brown sugar, and chopped walnuts. Eggs were another staple, pancakes appeared in Stanley and a variety of rolls and muffins. Always more than enough to eat. Coffee seemed to be a sore point, however. It was neither thick enough nor plentiful enough. Finding a second cup was difficult in a crowd of 160 or more riders. One pot just wasn’t going to be enough.

The day’s ride was listed as having about 1200 feet of climb through the farm land and the scrub lands of southern Idaho. I scarcely noticed any climb at all because it was gentle and consistent.

The scrub lands have a certain charm, but it wore pretty thin in a couple of days.

We all scoffed at the idea of camping in the Crater’s of the Moon National park. A peak at the pictures in the gallery for Day 2 should quickly tell you why. More important to me than the scenery, however, was finding a group with which to ride. The folks we had become acquainted with on Saturday evening had either started before us or hadn’t left yet. We ended up heading out on our own. I hoped to find someone to ride at my pace and some else to ride closer to Linda’s. On the road to Carey it didn’t look as though we would find pacemates. Many people appeared to be alone while others had arrived with a partner or a group already formed. Everyone was friendly and shared stories about previous rides at a moment’s notice. By Crater’s of the Moon and the second day, however, we had found a couple from Bozeman, Montana, Rich and Roberta and another couple from San Mateo, Calif., Doug and Rikki. In addition a couple on a tandem, Terry and Liz, seemed to be around consistently. The eight of us hit it off and toured Crater’s together and set up camp together pretty much every night after the first. Linda, of course, was the social butterfly, striking up conversations with nearly every one. She didn’t exactly go from tent to tent, but at one point she said she thought she had spoken to everyone. I could always find her by listening for her laugh. Even on the road, the laugh was never far behind. Linda was having the time of her life. Riding in a group is great. This freed me from riding only at Linda’s pace and gave her someone to talk to.

Our group enjoyed our beers at the end of the trail, but after dinner what we really wanted was ice-cream. It became and evening ritual to walk or ride around the town looking for something cold and sweet. Pitching a tent in mid-afternoon was often the hottest thing we did.

In Carey, a small café, which would serve us breakfast in the morning, sat at the entrance to the park. Linda and I found a softie and strawberry milkshake and sat on the veranda in the shade with a cooling breeze. We found ice-cream everywhere we went though in Stanley we had to settle for bars from a cooler.

No, these folks are not engaging in a game of “find the contact.” Laurie, on her knees, is demonstrating a Yoga position. Not a professional instructor, Laurie, nevertheless called upon her 20 years of experience to share with the group each evening before dinner a Yoga session. Linda insisted it was better than ibuprofen. Of course, she had also said that about beer. I continued the traditional beer regimen, not wishing to stretch the wrong muscles.

1. Saturday
2. Sunday
3. Monday
4. Tuesday
5. Wednesday
6. Thursday
7. Friday
8. Last Saturday