June 16/17 Yellowstone, Beartooth Pass, and Home

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We are home!
We did not have computer access on our last night away from home, so I’ll give some highlights. The scripture for the day was Acts 9:1-9, Saul on the Damascus Road. This is a powerful story and I love it, but at the time I wasn’t seeing any immediate connection for our day’s plans.

However, I do have what I call “signposts” in my life—those moments when God is working so powerfully and obviously that His presence is undeniable, even palpable. Some of those signposts have been:

--individuals who have functioned as “second fathers” at various times in my life;
--the day I was given, free of charge, a nine yr. old thoroughbred gelding retired from the racetrack, because I had been willing to tell God that I could let go of a long-held dream to have a horse;
--the day I met Steve; the day I gave him to God, trusting that he would be sent back to me; and the day I married Steve;
--the times when Steve was in seminary and we were flat broke, and checks would arrive, unsolicited, and in the exact amounts needed to cover bills;
--the days when each of my daughters was born, causing me to wonder what God had in store for me and would do with my life as I raised each of them (!)
--the days in which God placed calls on my life which I am still working out;
--the day I preached (in fear and trembling) my first sermon and realized that I could and should be doing this and that God did indeed have some kind of ministry in my future.

Our next-to-last day of riding became some kind of signpost for me as well. We tentatively planned to leave the south part of the Teton Park where we had been staying, ride up and out of Yellowstone, up Beartooth Pass, and across southern Montana to Miles City where we would have dinner with Willis and Vicki Crofutt, dad and step-mom of our son-in-law, Brendan. We knew it was a tall order because Yellowstone is huge and it takes forever to drive across at the 45 mph speed limit, not to mention the ripped up roads that would cause more delays.

We were on the road at 8am. There were four separate construction zones between the Tetons and the NE Yellowstone entry. They were all long—a half mile or more, with pilot cars, wait lines, totally ripped out road beds, and loads of potholes and other conditions very hazardous to motorcycles. It was overcast and cold (again!!), and rained on us off and on. I had on my full rainsuit with four layers of shirts underneath it. When I finally got too cold in the wind, I had Steve tape my rainsuit ankles down with duct tape. Steve was utilizing all of his trip wardrobe for warmth too. The construction zones got worse as we moved through the parks. On the last one (just outside the NE entry), we got hammered with rain as Steve gingerly tried to keep the bike upright in very real mud and at the same time see through a wet visor to avoid the next potholes. I sat still on the back and prayed. Steve has become an expert in avoiding obstacles.

When we finally found solid pavement again and were on our way to Beartooth Pass, it was about 2pm. Yes, it took that long to get from the Tetons to the other side of Yellowstone. Going through all that construction somehow had the same effect on me that the Grand Canyon IMAX movie had on Steve when he went to view the real thing. All I could think about was that there would be ice at the top of the pass or we would be riding through heavy rain and something “terrible” would happen.

So I started praying. Since I was feeling so unsettled about doing this thing that I had so looked forward to, I decided to ask God for perfect conditions, knowing that I might not get them. There were scattered storms almost everywhere I looked in the sky. It was just one of those kinds of days. I asked God for sun to follow us up and over the pass. I asked for dry pavement and no frozen spots for our tires to slip on. I asked for no rain to cloud Steve’s vision. I know that God gives exactly what we need, but not always what we want. I knew what kind of prayers I was praying and how outrageous they were. I knew that God knew that I was asking underneath it all that we just survive this ride in the conditions present.

The sun shone on us all the way up and over the pass. The sprinkles didn’t come until we rode onto the valley floor on the other side of the pass, and they didn’t last long. The pavement was dry over the entire pass. The traffic was low. Storms were right within sight over mountains all around us, but they didn’t blow onto the pass while we rode it. By the time we topped the summit at 10,947 feet, I was beginning to enjoy the experience, and my prayers were turning to praise. I kept up the praise all the way down the other side.

God knows I can be foolish in my fears. I felt foolishly afraid about that last big hurdle in our trip plans because of how hard the day had been, of how many times we could have gone down in the tough road conditions. And God extended a fearing, foolish person unmerited grace. Why I am surprised whenever that happens?

Down several thousand feet into warmer temps and away from the rain-ridden mountains, we shed clothing layers at every “standing stop” and gas stop. At last we both felt warm from head to toe and were flying across SE Montana to make our supper date in Miles City. It was a glorious late afternoon into evening and I was thanking God the whole way for His guidance and protection on this trip.

This was a little signpost when compared to Saul’s life-changing conversion on the Road to Damascus. But I will put it with my own collection of life-changing moments when I met God and experienced His all-consuming love and power.

Our easy trip home today was in perfect road conditions and perfect weather—another 3 plus hours spent in marveling at God’s creation and care, and praising Him for it. We couldn’t ask for a better ending. Blessings, Grace.

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