Kevin and kyle to the rescue

DAY 42
Dubois, WY to Jackson, WY (via Togwotee Mountain Lodge)

"We're going to get soaked today," Flats states as we pack up our belongings and prepare for the day. Today is the day we've all been waiting for. A short 56 miles over Togwotee Pass where my brother and his friend Kyle will pick us up and shuttle us into the town of Jackson. There we'll enjoy a rest day hopefully full of beers, steaks, and sleep. But first, a very steep and wet climb awaits us.

Jackson, here we come!

Not even rain can dampen our spirits, we are just so close to our day off

Gearin' up for the rain

The day begins cold and clear. It's not long before Flats' prediction becomes a reality. Storm clouds move in and it starts to sprinkle. A little rain can't spoil our mood as we slowly make our way up this relentless climb. False summits battle with chilly headwinds as to who can be a bigger asshole. The day has an erie charm to it. Massive jagged ridges play peek-a-boo through the grey low hanging clouds. Elk are spotted foraging in the woods where patches of last years snowfall cling to the tree wells.

Happy...

And excited...

Togwotee, we're comin' for you!

Becky as she reaches the top

Celebration at the top

Reaching the top of the pass still warm due to the exertion of the climb, I quickly pull on a jacket and gloves in an attempt to conserve heat. As Dirty and Flats reach the top they do the same. The wind chill has to be close to freezing. Becky tops out but our celebration is short lived when a wall of rain and sleet smash into us. Our only course of action is to head down the pass in hopes of out running the storm. Flats and Dirty are gone and out of sight in the first five minutes. Becky and I take it slower on the steep wet road. Our torso and heads remain dry underneath our rain jackets while our legs and hands are quickly drenched. The combination of cold wet body parts and speeding down a mountain pass quickly creates numb hands, legs, and feet. The hands are what worry me as we need them to steer and more importantly brake with.

---

The tire that just needed to make it 16 more miles

The rain mercilessly streams down over my helmet into my eyes. I continuously ask Becky if she's doing alright. Knowing how cold my hands are, hers have to be equally freezing. She surprisingly seems very composed. I alternate having one hand grip the handlebar and brakes, while the other hides from the cold wind on my warm back thigh. This seems to work allowing me to focus again on Becky.

As the hill levels out a little and the rain begins to subside, we pull off the road to warm our hands. It's at this point that I realize how cold and hysterical Becky is. I attempt to calm her as we warm her hands on my stomach. At this moment I look down at the wet ground to see air bubbles gurgling from the underside of Becky's front tire. I know instantly it's a flat. 

The past week I'd been nervously watching this bald tire, praying it would make it to Jackson. Once there I'd planned on having it replaced. The tire only had to manage a mere 16 more miles before it's retirement, but couldn't. The worst possible place and the worst possible time for a flat. Well that's not entirely true being that my brother is already on his way to pick us up. Luckily we have one bar of service on our phone, which is enough to call and inform him that we'll need to be picked up further up the pass. We have a spare tube and all the necessary equipment to fix the flat, however at this point with our numb hands and the poor state the tires in, the better option is to deal with it in town. Our saviors arrive 45 minutes later. We're chauffeured to town where a shower, dry indoor bed, and steak dinner await.

This is how Keith feels about what just happened

Trying to warm up after this traumatic experience

Stats:
Miles: 39.54
Average speed: 9.7 mph
Max speed: 26.9 mph
Odometer: 2968 miles