This summer I rode the Hiawatha bike trail, a 15-mile trek along an old train route. This stretch of the trail originates in Montana and continues downhill into Idaho. Downhill is a relative term because there is a lot of pedaling involved, much of it on a gravel path, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
Our adventure began as an idea my husband had. He was familiar with the train that went through here and mentioned it when we drove past one time. For a few summers, we talked about going on the bike ride, but the scheduling never worked out until this year. I caught glimpses of information about it and his initial description made it sound fun. A little leisurely sightseeing. An easy downhill bike ride on an old train route. Coasting gently downhill while taking in the scenic views.
As the date approached, I read more about it and started to get a bit nervous. Several tunnels were mentioned and I saw something about the first tunnel, just enough info to cast a bit of uncertainty toward the trip.
The day of the bike ride we started at Lookout Pass Lodge. (Ok, that name takes on new meaning now… look out…) In winter it’s a ski lodge, but during the summer months, bikes, helmets, and riders fill the entryway. We waited in line to arrange bike transport and receive our necessary gear: an appropriately fitted mountain bike, front light, and helmet. Once the arrangements were made, we loaded up in our car and drove to the trail head.
The parking lot was full which meant a really long walk to pick up our bikes and more time to worry about that first tunnel.
I hadn’t ridden a bike in a few years. I was hanging onto the old adage, “It’s just like riding a bike.” I think it implies that once you learn how to ride you don’t forget and it comes back easily. I can soundly report that there are exceptions to that rule.
Once on the bike it was a short jaunt to the dreaded tunnel, (which looked really dark – that’s what the headlight is for). All of the well-seasoned riders were cruising along to the entrance and sailing through the tunnel. I awkwardly tried to steer and navigate my bike over loose gravel. I was the epitome of clumsy and felt very foolish.
I had all the gear and equipment. I’d heard the speech at the lodge. I had a map (which someone told me I would never look at). I was at the trail head. On paper, I was ready to go. In my head I knew I should be ready, but my heart was anxious. I felt like a fraud, out of place. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here. Who do I think I am that I could do this bike ride?
Ever feel like that with the Bible? I have. I had a Bible. I went to a study. I had all the gear, but I had no clue what I was doing or what I was reading.
I made it through the bike ride and made it through the Bible. It wasn’t without mishaps, but I’m happy to share the experience. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.