atci90d/app/templates/stops/dillon.html

<p>Dillon was the pivotal crossroads of the entire journey.</p>

<p>Up to now, since Astoria, OR, I had been closely following the Trans Am Bike Trail. Dillon was a day and a
half away from Yellowstone, the next milestone on the route. </p>

<p>Bad weather had chased me into Dillon. Just as I began the monumental descent, the clouds broke and doused
me with the most torrential rain I have ever ridden in. No visibility; no traction; completely soaked and
uncomfortable. There was nothing I could do but put on my rain jacket--a joke in the face of these rains--and
put my head down and pedal into Dillon. My Warmshowers hosts, Larry and Lori, were the kindest, most
knowledgeable, and friendly people I could hope for.</p>

<p>They took me in, fed me, let me shower, and gave me a room in the smaller house next to their bigger house,
which they had built themselves.</p>

<p>Larry was keeping a close eye on the weather radar, tracking the rains that had pummeled me and were
currently roiling Yellowstone. Yellowstone, my next destination, was flooding under unprecedented conditions.
I was stuck. So I waited it out.</p>

<p>And yet Mother nature wins the battle of patience. I sheltered in place at my Warmshowers (at my hosts'
great generosity) and the rain was not passing. It looked like I might get a small window of one clear day,
but the forecast changed to a week or more of untenable weather.</p>

<p>I felt I had no choice. "If only I could go around," I mused out loud. Larry looked at me, "Well of course
you can go around!"</p>

<p>My bike maps were tightly dictated. They spelled out the route, and only the route. Few to no alternatives.
But Larry pulled out a plain old road map and showed me other, better ways. I love it. Great. Sign me up.</p>

<p>And while while I'm at it, there's a better route around another obstacle down the road... and another...
and another. There is a wealth of better scenery to go through and better roads to travel on. I hadn't
realized it, but I had been trapped by my maps. I was traveling this famous, allegedly great trail across
America. It didn't occur to me until then that I could, or even should, forge my own trail across America.</p>

<p>This was the great breakthrough. I was following these maps because they were a lifeline, telling me
exactly where to go and where I could stop. But at this point I had followed the lines for a full quarter of
the way across the country. I got a good idea of what the deal was and now I was free to make my own way.</p>