Yellowstone: A Tourists Paradise

There's nothing quite like a bunch of affluent (enough) Americans driving full-size RVs around a 60-mile circle in the middle of a 2.2 million acre mile wilderness to severely distress a cyclist. Or anyone riding a bike, for that matter. Not only do middle and upper-aged men not always understand how big their vehicle is, but they also don't understand what it's like to be young, passionate, and riding a bike...


Yellowstone is gorgeous, but it wasn't the resting place some of the group thought it might be. At least not on the first day. Besides almost getting hit a few times each day by the same people who were living much more comfortably than we, the wind made things less than pleasant to ride in. We decided to take a day off from riding and hitch-hike around the park.



I'll only mention once that the same people who irritated us on our bikes irritated us as hitch-hikers because not only would they not pick us up, they wouldn't acknowledge us. There's something about affluent (enough) white Americans that can be enraging. Try begging on the street--or working on the same committee as one.



We got a lot of rides with, hippies, foreigners--people who were exploring the national parks of america from other countries--and a few kids our own age. All people worth consulting about the future of the country or personal substance. We really liked all of the people we met. We learned from them.

And so we saw the park. We ate lots of peanut butter sandwhiches. We slept. We read. We hiked. We conquered the tourists; being ourselves, well, tourists.

When Leon was asked why it was so natural for us to get so upset with the tourists driving their cars (almost) into us, getting in our way, and sometimes stopping to wiggle their finger and scream bits of advice like: "Ride Single File" he replied:

"I think it's because I've pedaled my butt off to get here--and at first glance it seems like they're getting a similar experience for a lot less work, with a lot more convenience and comfort. We're being forced to share the same beauty with a million others who don't seem to care about us, and who seem to be having a much easier time doing it."

And so we learned about expectations and the old saying about not worrying about what other people are getting for what they do.

Did I mention we also saw Yellowstone?

A New Friend: Catching An Adventure

A few days back--in Estherville, IA, to be exact--Matt noticed a guy with a bike on the front page of the newspaper. He was getting water from the fountain machine and looking for a good excuse not to go back outside, lest he need to start riding again. He took up the paper and began reading. What he saw was that a young man from Ireland, age 23, named Leon Mccarron

was riding across the United States as well. Leon was also raising money for wells in Africa, and he was traveling roughly the same route. Matt thought it would be cool to catch him, but didn't think it likely.

Two days later coming into Mitchell, SD we saw a figure pull out onto the road riding a bike that looked like the one from the newspaper--if nothing else we figured they had the same bike.

OK. I know when you're writing you're supposed to stay on topic, but let me interject to tell you another story: we were riding along between Spirit Lake and Sioux Falls when Matt stopped staring at the ground while he was pedaling and looked across the field beside him. He noticed he was passing a tent off to the side of the highway. He figured that had to be Leon. Who else camps in a tent on the side of a busy highway in the middle-of-nowhere Iowa?

"Leon, Leon?" he yelled.

"some sort of grunting noise"

"Leon?"

A hand pops out. then a shaggy head of hair. then...a woman emerged. She might have been some sort of hobo. And she had a nice bike, it seemed. But it wasn't Leon.

OK. Back to the original story. We see this guy a couple miles out of Mitchell, SD. We figure it's Leon--a guy we've only read and heard about. A guy we don't know for sure won't try to kill us.

So the excitement is mounting as we get closer and closer. And it continues to mount.

And then we get close enough to yell his name and he turns around. It's Leon.

We instantly got along swimmingly. Matt called the family who was supposed to host us that night and asked if the guy they had just met on the street could come stay the night too.

"Sure!" the Host said.

And so all four of us all went into perhaps the most trusting and respectable family's home to eat and shower and sleep. We actually had a lovely time getting to know each other. As we've continued to travel with Leon he has inspired each of us, and been a lot of fun in general. He's in the process of pedaling across the US, around New Zealand, Australia and into Asia as far as he can make it until his budget runs out. He's originally from Northern Ireland. Check him out at www.leonmccarron.com. We'll probably ride with him into Yellowstone National Park, at which point he needs to go north to get to Seattle a bit before we do.