Togwotee pass was the third pass in as many days. Fortunately, on a map, this climb looked like it would be the least challenging of the three passes. It was simply a lengthy climb. This particular pass didn't have the pedigrees of former, steeper passes: the pullout areas for semis to chain up tires; the signs indicating steep grades; the switchbacks; etc... I didn't realize until I was near the pass that today was the day that I would cross the continental divide. What I was thrown off by was the fact that the continental divide geographically occurred about one quarter of a mile before the higher Togwotee Pass. Additionally, I was wrong the day before when I had declared that Teton Pass was the highest elevation of the trip (8431'), as Togwotee Pass (9659' or 9658'; both are reported) is clearly at a higher elevation. Just beyond Togwotee Pass, I stopped for a late lunch at Wind River Lake. This place was beautiful; so much so that it looked like it belonged on a postcard. Lunch was enjoyed here prior to the blazing descent to Dubois. A lengthy descent coupled with a strong tailwind made for (by touring standards) a blistering 30 miles in about 80 minutes! Earlier in the day, I had reached out to an Episcopal church in Dubois about camping on their church grounds. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that St. Thomas routinely allows cyclists to use their community center for a place to sleep. The additional steps of putting up and taking down the tent would not be missed. I was the fourth and final cyclist that arrived on this day. Mark and James (father & son, respectively), and David had all arrived shortly before me. David had crossed paths earlier that day with Mark and James south of Dubois. It sounded like their separate routes would be follow the same stretch of highway for the next day or so; from there, they would diverge along their respective routes. In the process of sharing where I was from with Mark, David overheard me sharing that I was from Dixon, IL. In a second, David politely mentioned that Dixon is the hometown of Ronald Reagan and added that this wasn't to be confused with the town he was born in: Tampico, IL. I was shocked and immediately presumed that David had to be from somewhere in northern Illinois; after all, who just knows and could effortlessly rattle off this tidbit of information about Reagan? I inquired, and sure enough David was originally from Princeton, IL; due south of Dixon. And here we both were: two cyclists far away from home on the same day in Dubois, WY! Is life weird or what? I was even more surprised to learn that David is the nephew of Chuck Vale, longtime coach and athletic director at Dixon High School. My mind was blown, and we were all hungry. All four of us walked to a local restaurant for dinner. While the entrees were good, the blackberry pie was phenomenal! The seating arrangement was a little different, in that a table for eight/nine was only occupied by five people. The waitstaff sat us down at the unoccupied part of the table. Don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining; I was famished! This seating arrangement, however, made for interesting conversation with a gentleman in the party of five. He shared that his name was Jack and that people call him Indiana Jack. He told us a few jokes, the final of which was a dirtier one that I don't think any of us had anticipated to hear from an 82 year old man! Indiana Jack then added, "you're staying at a church right? Good, you can get cleansed!" Shortly after this, we returned to the community center. All four of us were planning for an early start the following morning. My route would take me 95 miles to Shoshoni.
