Wedding, Riding and Raining

(Originally posted May 29, 1998.)

Friday, May 22. Weather turns from lovely to less than. Rain and cold all day throughout the valley; the mountains invisible through the clouds. Call the judge to make sure he won't have a problem with adverse weather conditions. He says, "No problem. I have an umbrella; I have a raincoat; I have boots."

Saturday, May 23. The mountain tops gleam white with freshly fallen snow; the yard has turned to muck; the rains continue. Check the weather sites--doesn't look good--calls for thunderstorms through Wednesday, May 27. Recall damaging hail storms of last spring and hope for the best.

Sunday, May 24. Wake to yet another rainy morning. Muddy dogs have turned the kitchen floor into muck. Recheck the weather sites--they've been updated, but the outlook remains the same. Early afternoon arrives and the rains suddenly stop. Clouds part; sun shines; the groom arrives. (Along with his sister, Linda, and his son, Ryan.) The day turns into yet another perfect example of "Springtime in the Rockies".

Monday, May 25. Wake to sunshine and clear skies. Check the weather sites--again, they've been updated, and again, the outlook remains the same. It is supposed to be raining with thunderstorms, and it is supposed to remain that way through Wednesday. But it remains a dry and sunny Memorial Day except for a few hours late in the day after the groom departs for a trip to Missoula to retrieve his best man, Point. They stop at the top of the pass on their way back; the road is rutted, but dry. Don and Point go for a ride--Point riding Don's bike and Don riding mine. Paige decorates and builds an impressive three-tiered cake; Linda, Ryan and I drive her nuts with suggestions. By nightfall, the cake is safely protected from her kitty by a huge box and Don's bike sits on blocks with front wheel removed and ready for a tire replacement.

Tuesday, May 26. The sun still shines. Don and Point leave early to pick up the rings and to take the bike wheel to a shop to get a new tire mounted. The rest of us perform a production-line routine of showering. (Six people; one bathroom.) Don and Point return with just enough time to join at the end of that line.

By noon, we are ready to depart for our ride up the mountain. The groom wears jeans and a white dress shirt under his black leather chaps and jacket. I wear my bride's dress (tucked up out of the way) with riding boots and black leather jacket. The best man rides, with cameras in hand, in the back of Linda's truck to film our ride. A caravan of trucks and 4-WD vehicles follows. We're greeted with 'thumbs up' signs from cagers as we pass them by.

As soon as we get through the photo ops of the first straight stretch of highway, we move out on our bikes to pass the lead truck. By the time we hit the base of McDonald Pass, it is just the two of us. Side by side through most of the curves--curves I've had trouble with before but which I seem to hit just right this time. On one long sweeping curve, I feel myself leaning more than ever before, and it feels right--finally. Both of us make it to the top without a down shift--a first for the sow, and she's pretty hot by the time we pull over to wait for the others. Don congratulates me on my handling of the curves--a-wonderful-nother first since I've never *ever* deserved such a compliment before.

The wedding is simple and brief. Also all that we'd hoped it would be in terms of personal symbolism and significance. Then I climb on behind Don on his bike for the two-up trip down the mountain. Point convinces Linda to join him as he rides the sow back to the house. Ric enthusiastically volunteers to drive Linda's truck.

The weather holds through pizza and cake. But by 4:30 or so, the sky clouds over. Don and I decide it is time to for us to depart for the first privacy we'll have since his arrival and the last we'll have for awhile. In the rush to depart, neither of us bothers to recall lessons learned during previous springtime rides throughout Montana. We do each pack an extra set of clothing for just in case we hit rain, but never think to pack it in waterproof bags. We also don't take extra gloves, warmer clothing, rain gear, etc.

As we approach McDonald Pass for the second time, lightning illuminates the mountain ahead of us. We repeat our side-by-side climb, and once again, I handle those curves with ease. We pulled over again at the top--this time to get rid of the sign Point had wired to the back of my bike and to switch from sunglasses to goggles. The day is now dark, and the thunderstorms hit as we descend the western slope. They hit hard. We don't stop; neither do the rains.

One hundred and twenty miles later, we arrive, soaked and very cold, in Missoula for our one-night stay at Ruby's Reserve Street Inn. (Ruby's is my Missoula home away from home when I travel there for work. The people of Ruby's are also wonderful and caring friends who gifted us this night in the honeymoon suite--complete with champagne and a jacuzzi.)

First order of business, to crank the heat up all the way in the room. Second order of business, unpack to confirm that our dry clothes are wetter than our wet clothes. No sense in changing, so we spread everything we'd packed out to dry and walk to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

By the time we return, our room is stifling hot, but we're still cold and damp. A very long soak in the jacuzzi takes care of that. And also wraps up that portion of this report. (I'll happily share the wedding and the rides, but the wedding night is for our memories only.)

Wednesday, May 27. A *very* early wake up call arrives from Don's brother, Lee. (Lee claims he forgot about the one-hour time difference.) The morning sun shines once more as we take a return walk to the restaurant for breakfast. After breakfast, we stop in a gift shop--each wanting to buy a little gift for the other. We end up with a single pair of earrings--Yogo sapphire studs to match our rings. Don asks for a pen and markes the case with a "D" under the left earring and a "C" under the right one. (The significance--that order duplicates our positioning during the wedding ceremony-- a positioning which we'd later realized was backwards of tradition.) He says that I'm welcome to wear the pair whenever he is not wearing his, but that each must be returned to its proper place when not being worn. (I agree, but I wonder how he would know....)

By noon, the bikes are reloaded and we're heading out. The skies darken once more and the rains fall. The wind is much colder than yesterday's had been, but the rains are lighter. We take our time during the return--stopping often for coffee warm ups along the way. Again, McDonald Pass presents a significant change in weather, and we ride down the eastern side in the glow of warm, dry sunshine. By 3:30, we are at home once again with our children.

And by day's end, Don's bike is on the trailer, the trailer attached to Linda's truck loaded with Ryan's bicycle and a huge root ball of three intermingled flowering bushes being transplanted from my yard to Linda's.

Thursday, May 28. My groom has returned to South Dakota and his other home, and my garage is one bike shy. Double 8-(

For those who may be wondering how I managed to chase the groom away so soon after the ceremony, rest assured--he shall return. For now, our together time is subject to the whims of shippers, receivers and dispatchers. We're hoping that the dispatchers, at least, will be kind.

Return home.

CLH -- 6/9/98