Each year, in between desperate gasps for air, I curse Jared while pedaling up Going to the Sun Road.

The bike trip on one of America’s most iconic roadways has become an annual trip that we’ve undertaken rain or shine, sick or five months pregnant. A chance to see the park without hoards of tourists and cars is too alluring to let being out of shape, fair-weather adventurers get in the way.

Case and point, I was hoping it would rain so I could get out of it this year, but

Saturday started like this …


We pedaled the last four miles in a drizzle and by Sunday morning, the weather was like this …


Not only do we have a soft spot for the ride, we also have a soft spot for the park.

And by soft spot, I mean it’s my favorite spot. The spot where I fell eternally in love with Montana.

Fittingly, it’s where Jared met my family.

First, he met my parents and sister. Us girls weren’t there when Jared arrived early. So it was just him and dad. Luckily, dad offered him a beer so they were fast friends.

Then he met my brother on a backpacking trip, when it rained, and we stayed in a three-person tent. If you’re thinking that sounds awkward, you’re correct.

Wheezing up the last two miles to The Loop Overlook geared down as far as my bike allows also is awkward. But whizzing down Going to the Sun is another reason to love the park. Even if I curse about it going up.



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