When You Have Lemons, Make Lemonade

This might have been a better week. We expected to be camping in the Tetons rather than sleeping in a hospital and waiting for a motorcycle repair but I'd rather focus on the good things like meeting Rocky and Lenita Moore. Rocky, a 5th grade teacher, and fireman of 35 years service, is as kind and jovial as Santa Clause, he and his sweet daughter Lenita were first on the scene of our accident and rallied help via 911. When I was a mess, trying to figure out if Theresa was hurt and if my neck was broken, Rocky took charge of our motorcycle, parking it safely in his yard and promising to pick us up at the hospital, never mind that it was 33 miles away! "Just call, I'll come and get ya", were his words to Theresa as we left by ambulance. You can't imagine what a relief it was to me knowing I didn't have to worry about the bike and trailer.

In the Emergency Room at Bear Creek Memorial Hospital, after being treated and released we had no place to go. It was late and our bike was 33 miles from the hospital. Without us asking, the hospital staff offered us a room, clothes and shower supplies. They even got us dinner at a local restaurant! When we awakened in the morning, there were trays of hot breakfast alongside our beds! We had been treated as well as real patients, even though we were officially not there. I even got a personal class on how to dress a road rash wound. We ate breakfast, called Rocky Moore back in Cokeville, and left the hospital feeling like we had a fleet of guardian angles. We will never forget their kindness.

Rocky and Lenita picked us up as promised and the conversation I had with this eclectic, brilliant man was the highlight of my day. We talked about his work as a 5th grade school teacher, about a crazy bomber who died trying to blow up his school in 1986, (see Wikipedia for the story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cokeville_Elementary_School_hostage_crisis ) . We talked for a couple of hours, I wish it could have been days, then they made us lunch. When the conversation drifted to paleontology, he gifted us with a couple of fossils he had found! I hated to leave but we needed to find a dealer to check out the bike before going too far and it was noon Saturday. We prepared to go and said our goodbyes; that's when I discovered the bike was disabled with a dead hydraulic clutch. As a member of the Gold Wing Road Riders Association, I called to invoke the roadside assistance benefit of membership, and Dennis Horsley came to pick us up with a flatbed.

I thought Rocky was a rare find and certainly of exalted rank in the Legion of Guardian Angles, but Dennis, our flatbed rescuer, had some angelic surprises up his sleeve too. Dennis, he of the Honda Division of Courtesy Ford of Afton, Wyoming was cordial and interesting like Rocky. Now this is another really eclectic guy. He modestly explained that you have to do what you can to make a living these days as we discovered he is a principal in the Honda and Ford dealerships in Afton, runs the local movie theater, has a stake in the tire shop across the street, and built and manages a rental house, all while he's not cutting hay. He could probably be a pretty good circus juggler too, judging by his work ethic and resume. When we finished loading the bike and trailer into his shop, which was already closed for the weekend, he realized our plight being without transportation or lodging. He tossed Theresa the keys to a nearby Ford Taurus, saying "I guess I ought to borrow you that car", never asking for ID, or money. I get the impression that you can trust people around here. I'll bet most deals are sealed with a handshake and that's enough for people like these.

This morning we met a pair of fellow bikers, also stranded with us at the Lazy B Motel. It seams that a mere 600 miles of twisty Yellowstone driving had erased all memory of tread from his rear tire. An ensuing blowout at 65 mph nearly introduced them to the guard rail which they fortunately missed. After he tire ironed new rubber onto his wheel I drove him around looking to inflate the tire for his 1995 BMW with sidecar. Tubeless tires need a massive blow of compressed air to seat the bead on the rim. All the facilities we found had wimpy 25 cent air compressors that simply were not strong enough to seal the bead and inflate the BMW's tire. It was Sunday morning and nothing was open, what to do? Call Dennis! He answered with a quick, "no problem, I'll meet you at the shop in 5 minutes". He opened the big garage door and fetched an air hose connected to a mega compressor. It ended our inflation problem in about 10 seconds! Then he gave the BMW rider a new valve stem for the tire. No charge. Good deed for the day. I like this guy.

Sunday in Afton, Wyoming, population 1818, Altitude 6134, and almost everything is closed. We did find a nice breakfast, ate, so now what? We've already checked out the world's largest elk horn arch, built in 1958 of 3,000 elk horns, for the amazingly low cost of $2,500! This, by the way, compares very favorably to lesser tourist attractions like the world's largest ball of string or the multitude of Wax Museums scattered around the country. I know, lets go see the periodic spring!

Just up the hill from town there is a strange spring that starts and stops with a period of about 15 minutes! They say it's a cold water geyser. We drove into the Bridger National Forest, up, up, up, the dirt road alongside Swift Creek, and parked at the trail head to take the 3/4 mile hike to the famous periodic spring. We got out of the car, now at about 7,000 feet altitude, wheezed for a few seconds, took inventory of our aches and pains, and got back into the car, figuring the spring was about 47/64ths of a mile too far. To learn how the spring works, click on the picture to enlarge the explanation printed near the top. We later appreciated photographs of the spring at http://www.americansouthwest.net/wyoming/periodic-spring/photographs.html , without wheezing once or aggravating arthritic joints. Ain't the Internet grand?

I do have to say that the ride to the trail head was beautiful. A picturesque bubbling brook appeared to have a trout behind every rock. I would have loved to have had a fly rod in my hand, felt soled wading boots and a hot frying pan with a bit of lemon and butter for the saute. Mmmm, few things taste better than a freshly caught brook trout.

The other thing we noticed on the dirt road was the abundance of small wild flowers. I made a collage of a few to give you an idea of what you see roadside here.

Lastly, it's fun to look close, very close at some of nature's marvels. When I was a kid we'd pick the puffball seed pod of the dandy lion out of the ground to try an blow the seeds into the wind, thereby propagating crabgrass to our neighbour's yards. Here they have a similar flower/weed but it's bigger and much prettier than the small ones of my youth. I took a couple of photos. Remember to click on them to enlarge, and please refrain from blowing, you will only get spit on your monitor.

When these blooms disintegrate, each seed flies away on its own tiny gossamer parachute. I later saw some, landed in a puddle on the street. the tiny bell shaped bowl was on the water holding the little seed pointed skyward. It looked like a tiny rocket about to launch. I think the surface tension of the water rights the little seedling to bring forth a new generation of weed or flower, whichever you perceive it to be.