We climbed at the City of Rocks over conference weekend. We realized our weeklong dreams. Our climbing gear came in from Amazon midweek and we headed out friday afternoon. 

Recovered from the archives. Actually I finally got this black and white roll developed from before my bike tour. I finished this roll at my Tandem shoot. The rest was shot in color. 

Nikkormat FT 300mm 35mm Tmax100

We also limboed. The girl with reddish tint won. She was also the shortest. I didn't win; I was the tallest. 

We danced. Its called square but of course it was mostly circle. We smiled a lot. The man at the end of the post called. He called out orders, usually when people call out orders they are disliked, but everybody liked this guy for some reason; they called him the Caller. 

George's Grand Bike Tour de Northwest Part I

On Thursday the 26th of July, 2012, 6pm, I proceeded forth from my home in Rexburg on my Grand Bike Tour de Northwest. My man Morris road with me; he was dying to get out of his office on campus. He met me at Millhollow as I enjoyed the last of my quality fro-yo. He met me to offer gifts to aid me on my ride, a handle-bar mirror and a fuel canister, but he weaseled his way into riding with me out of town, past the butte; I''m sure he got paid for it. It was a pleasure to have his company.


Adventure, excitement, and ultra-extreme swashbuckling ensued. I give the following as a brief, somewhat dry, yet mostly clear synopsis. I road 30 miles the first night to Mud Lake, camped behind a small Catholic church. I put down between 40 and 80 miles the rest of the days. Friday I stayed the night on the lawn of an LDS building in Mackay; I successfully combated the evening sprinkler system.  Saturday I road hard, summiting Willow Creek pass on U.S. 93 at 7161 feet, before turning off road to cross over to U.S. 75 on Spars Canyon Road; I pedaled hard to reach Stanley just as the moon awakened. I enjoyed a fine pizza at Luce's, exited the institution, wandered down to the creek side and immediately fell asleep in a vacant lot behind a bush.

 Sunday I rested. I found hot springs, and then I found better hot springs. I washed and passed the night there. The hot springs are somewhat of the secret sort so I'll leave their location undisclosed. The rest is somewhat more of a blur. On Monday I cruised through a 60 mile stretch of intense down hill– all down hill– and fought the wind the whole time. I stayed the night at another hot spring by recommendation of my road angel Gary, and made friends with some kayakers, and camped with this Mark fellow from Ohio. Tuesday I made it all the way to Weiser, with a friendly wind much of the way. I stayed the night there with my aunt and uncle, Janette and Hal. Charming folks. I arrived after being made the upset of the town for not having a rear taillight and being stopped by the police. The informed the laws of Idaho require a front and rear taillight. I carried on and enjoyed my stay at a respectable residence.

Here I break for the day. The rest tomorrow.

Gary and his wife decided to give me a ride a few miles instead of allowing me to ride up hill on a remote primitive road behind their house. They were on the way to the dump. I sat in the back with their garbage. 

Aunt Janette and Uncle Hal.

View from the hot springs. Those are the legendary Sawtooth mountains in the background.

I came into the town of Stanley on the closing night of a music fest. As I emerged out of a tight canyon that had followed the Salmon River for some ways, the vast Stanley valley expanded before me and I beheld the beautiful sight of Stanley: a city twinkling on a small hill top, with the great Sawteeth roaring up beind it, radiating in soft moonlight.  The result of the music fest was that they were out of gas for the next couple of days. 

The Orval Hansen. I lingered longer after the LDS session at the hilltop meditation chapel, and participated in the protestant session. In attendance was Orval Hansen, The man who saved the Sawtoothes. 

Yes their mormon, and it's their reunion.

So I washed my clothes in the hot spring. All of them at once. I didn't mean for this photo to be so provocative . . . 

The above is one of my favorite pictures I have ever taken. The dark qualities of the trees, the glistening ground cover. The mountains in the distance, the people nearer. It takes me somewhere else. 

We walked along the trail, and Tyler spotted a moose about thirty feet in front of us, a bull with very large antlers. A cow started of towards our left. For a moment we thought they were going to pull a Jurassic Park velociraptor on us. We retreated. Until a boy scout troop came prancing along, bumbling forward disregarding our warnings. 

Well enough. The moose didn't charge and we managed to make some photographs. 

Table Rock

Table Rock. I've heard word ever since my early days hear in Rexburg. The classic hike of the area. We finally did it. Almost went last week. Cancelled. This week we expedited. Journeyed. And it was grand. 

We hiked along the huckleberry; the path wove through quaking aspen, along a valley, deeper into the woods. Eventually we spotted a towering peak which we thought must be Table Rock. It wasn't. We spotted another one that seemed even higher and unsurmountable.  Wasn't that one either. Finally, after we came out on top of a ridge, we realized it was a large butte in the distance, one which we had not even considered. That one we climbed, hiked, and summated. Some in our group worried they would not reach the top– all did. The path of life often takes us to greater heights than we had ever conceived. 

More on the Fourth ( I love the fourth).

More from the railroad. I attempted to scan the negatives without the aid of the negative tray.

Early this summer I wondered about the train tracks.