Jackson – Alpine – Diamond Creek – Bear Lake – Randolph – Huntsville – Salt Lake City: 421 km

After two days in Yellowstone and another along the Grand Tetons the next days are somewhat uninspiring. However, on the bike there are hardly any boring days. Normal days happen of course, yet normal days on the bike are still days in which we experience and see a whole lot. We’re have a couple of days like these. The first one we end up at Alpine, for no other reason than the lack of willpower to fight an incredibly strong headwind. Alpine turns out to have a large but shallow lake popular for camping. We pitch our tent and have a beer at the brewery that overlooks the water. The next day we spend in wilderness, across steep climbs, thick forests and gravel roads. Then came Bear Lake, where a friendly cook lets us sleep in the backyard of his restaurant and where I almost burn off all my facial hair when I replace the burner on our propane tank. We swim, we camp, we watch the Tour de France every morning. It’s funny how I’ve started to regard these days as regular.

Then comes a day that has been in the making for a little while. Donna’s – who you, if you’re an avid reader of this blog, remember from the ride from Montpellier to Valencia – parents are here. Like us, they’re cycling the states. We’ve been in touch a while to see if our itineraries lined up. We both believed it would be a long shot, but as luck would have it, we’re actually at the same place at the same time. It helps that they’ve swapped their bikes for a car for the last two weeks of their travels. We meet them in an abandoned camping ground outside of Randolph, Idaho. It’s great to see them. Jos’ enthusiasm is infectious, at times it seems like he’s never left adolescence. Magda is as warm and welcoming as always. They’ve brought dinner (ravioli with shrimps on the side), and we have honey bourbon to go with it. We exchange adventures and experiences from the last months on the road. We compare America to the Netherlands, its people and its problems. We have a swim the next morning in the nearby reservoir, meet for coffee and cake back in Randolph, and both parties go their separate ways. A rejuvenating meeting.

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The ride towards Huntsville promises to be an easy one. There’s a long climb, but on our phones it looks stretched out, and should be fairly simple to get over. We were wrong about that. Even though the gradient is forgiving, the climb doesn’t seem to stop. It’s hot today. We run out of water quickly and start waving our bottles at cars that pass by. No luck. My mind is filled with images of running taps, and fridges stocked with cola. It’s endless. Near the top is a pullout. Two couples are strapping their offroad buggies onto their trailers. We ask for water. They have plenty, cold even. We not only end up with water and snacks, but also with a place to stay that night. They have family in Huntsville, and they will definitely let us stay over. She’ll call them in advance so they know to expect us. Awesome! The downhill is perfect, especially with the knowledge that at the end of this road, there’s an open door waiting for us.

We ride up to the house. It’s a big one, with both a sizable front- and backyard. Nobody’s home. We call the number that we’ve been given.

“This is Mike.”

“Hi! We’re the cyclist from the Netherlands. We met your sister earlier today.”

“Who are you? Remind me.”

“Your sister has called you about us coming right?”

“Nobody’s called me”

We explain. He’s confused. We explain some more. Still confuse.

“Well, just wait there. I’ll be home in about 30 minutes, but my wife will be there any moment. She might be a little startled.”

And startled she was, if not to say scared. We are subjected to a cross-examination, her body language is one of distrust. We explain the miscommunication, and are about ready to leave when Mike gets home. He’s less scared of us and pretty much immediately invites us for dinner, and tells us we can pitch our tent in the garden. Now we are somewhat startled, but we agree. For the experience mostly.

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Over dinner we learn that they’re devoted followers of The Church of Latter-day Saints; Mormons. We have so many questions, and they are more than willing to explain. Sometimes it seems like they try to convert us, other times they’re just explaining. They are overly certain about their belief system, otherwise it wouldn’t make sense to believe I guess, but they are open and understanding of other views of the world. We end up learning a lot, and I would say we become friends that evening. At the end of the night, we’re given The Book of Mormon, and are even allowed into the house. When it rains the next day, we are invited to wait out the rain and help Mike with some chores in his garage. He even ends up taking us up the hill so that our ride into Salt Lake City is only downhill.

It's not a surprise we spent the night with a Mormon family. Salt Lake is the epicenter of this relatively newfound religion. There are signs about the settles everywhere, and in the middle of the town there’s a huge cathedral. After God knows how many kilometers, this is the first big city we visit after arriving in Calgary. It feels a little strange, but definitely exciting. We stay with Sandy, who we’ve met over Warm Showers. She is the perfect host. A young and witty mind for her 75 years. We spend two days in the city. We go out for once, even though our drivers’ licenses are mostly useless for letting us into bars, we have a surprisingly fun night. The next morning Mike and Cindy have arranged tickets for us to see the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square, a very Mormon affair. But it’s good to broaden our horizons. Filled with new experiences and rested from our nights in Sandy’s garden we’re ready for what lies ahead.