Lately I have pushed the limits of morning coffee. Not a new brew but what I believe possible to do while drinking my morning coffee. Just like in the Crazy Mountains when I “walk” up to around 10,000 feet while drinking some of my brew. The one hand rule so to speak.
This morning I had to disregard the one hand rule because I decided to go on a mountain bike spin. With my coffee tucked away in a frame bag. I just pull out my insulated mug, pop the top, and sip every now and then.
It had been a while between sips when I realized I was in deep. I went off the road to a piece of single track which I thought would dump back out on the road just over Teton Pass. Right through a canyon. Which swallowed me up until I was hiking the bike along and up cliffs. I kept thinking it would get better and it seemed to just be getting worse.
I must have forged the creek like 20 times and just when things started to open back up my feet froze. So bad that I could not feel them. Walking was impossible so I stumbled like a drunk. Finally I saw a cabin on the horizon and made a beeline to it.
I envisioned busting through the door and collapsing. I would wake up in the hospital with camera crews waiting to interview me. The first mountain biker ever to make it through Teton Canyon alive. I was going to be a hero. But that never happened, no. Instead I biked over the pass and back to camp. My partner was waiting for the adventure story. At least I would be famous to one person.