Monthly Archives: July 1988

Lander, WY

hostel or church

I met lots of people going west the next day. Why did I always meet people going the opposite way? I sure wished there were more going my way so I would have some company. Everyone I met raved about Ma’s Boarding House in Lander. As it was 72 miles from Dubois, it would make a good stop. I decided to go for it.

The day’s ride was almost entirely through the Wind River Indian Reservation.
I thought these looked like giant bread loaves.
Hines General Store in Ft. Washakie on the reservation.
Never been to a Pow Wow. My schedule didn’t line up, though.

Arriving in Lander, I followed a little map that a cyclist had given me. The directions said to go up 2nd street. What it didn’t say was that 2nd street was a vertical wall. I was in my bottom granny, and still had to stop and rest along the way.

Then, at the top of 2nd street — more climbing, this time up a steep, winding, gravelly road. At the top of this hill, two Dobermans came out to chase me.

It had been miles. I began to wonder whether I had gone the right way. Finally, I saw the sign. I followed Focht road to an apparent dead end. That couldn’t be it. I turned around and started up a driveway back on the road.

Just then, a car came by and told me I was going the wrong way. Ma’s boarding house was at the dead end. Actually, it wasn’t a dead end. It was an extremely steep dirt-and-pebble road leading up to a farmhouse. My mind had automatically eliminated that road as a possibility, earlier. Only a mountain bike could have navigated the driveway. And even one of those would have trouble, with my load. I dismounted, changed my shoes, and started walking.

The earth was as soft as the green foam that they use to set flower arrangements in. My feet sunk in about two inches. About two hundred feet from the top, I saw a solid barrier of fresh horse shit across the road. There was no walking around it. I had to go through.

It was all worth it, though. Pat “Ma” Focht immediately gave me a glass of cold lemonade. The grandkids, Ray and Natalie, were wonderful. They loved to talk and show me things.

Made it! Ma’s Boarding House. The house was surprisingly cool for one with no air conditioning. They had foot-thick foam insulation, and simply opened the windows to the cold desert air at night.
“Ma” Pat Focht. “Pa” Bill not shown.

Outside, there were about 7 barn cats, which gratefully ate the milk-soaked bread that Ma set out for them once a day. There was also a small dog, which the cats ignored. Ma said that the cats controlled the field mice, and the coyotes controlled the cats.

I believe I took the full package. The bunkover meant I got a piece of thick foam to sleep on upstairs. And I got breakfast the next morning.
The grandkids Natalie(5) and Ray(8). They loved to talk and show me things.

Another cyclist, Terry, was staying at Ma’s. He was a true southern gentleman, who always answered “yes, sir,” and “no, sir” to me, even though we were about the same age.

terry was from georgia. there was also kenji aoki from japan. we all sat around and talked after dinner.