LoToJa.

That name has just never flowed for me.  Lo. To. Ja.  I think I would like it better if you said it laTOWjah instead of LOWtajah.  No idea what I'm talking about?  Sorry.  Troy has once again taken place in the epic "Logan to Jackson" cycling race, obviously beginning in Logan, Utah and winding up in Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  It is a race that takes you a puke-inducing 206 miles (I've been told many times not to discount those last six miles seeing as how they're the hardest to come by, so don't do any rounding-to-the-nearest-number, if you please!)  This year in order to actually ENJOY the race, Troy took on two legs of a five-leg relay, which meant he had a much better time, though the race still ended up being puke-inducing for him, poor guy.  Those last few miles are just tough, no matter how far you've ridden!  Other than that, I hear he had a great ride.  The guys took off on Friday afternoon - Troy, Rob, Shawn and Uncle Jimmy. 

And I'm going to let Troy have his first ever guest post in order to tell the story:

About 2 or 3 miles outside of Alpine, WY, Rob and I were riding together beginning the ride up the Snake River Valley when another cyclist pulled up behind us and in a very pleasant enthusiastic voice asked if he could tag along with us. I let him know that if he was willing to ride our pace he was welcome to stay with us to the end. He hung on back for just a short time and then happily took over duty pulling us up the canyon. We encountered another cyclist who was riding a slower pace than us and he gave the guy a frienly pat on the back as we passed and encouraged him to hop on back of our group. The man now leading our group was strong and friendly and doing his best to encourage everyone we met to be part of our group. I rode this great guy's wheel for 20 to 30 miles being so grateful for a strong wheel to ride. Eventually our group broke up and he went on his way, and Rob left me when the puke started to fly for me (who can blame him). With about 10 or 15 miles left I was left alone and I was feeling terrible having just spent the last few miles throwing up while still on my bike. My pace had dropped to almost nothing and I was starting to calculate how long it would take for me to finish at my current pace. It was not good. Then from behind came a familiar and friendly voice. "I just had a brat and a dohnut, life is good!" My guy had stopped along the way and partaken of some local hospitality and was now ready to finish his race. He once again asked me to hop on his wheel and we were off at a respectable pace that would get me to Jackson in no time. This time he did apologetically ask me how I was doing and if would mind taking a turn in front, but just as long I could and told me not to wear myself out too much. Eventually, I fell off his wheel again, but by this time the finish line was only about 4 miles away and I was able to ride in without feeling too bad. I really wanted to find this guy at the finish line and thank him for all he did for me during the ride, but the finish is crazy and crowded and there was really no chance of finding him. I have since decided that he was actually one of the 3 Nephites who was sent to help me on this long day of cycling. Ok, that is perhaps a stretch, but I doubt that any one of them could have been a better help to me that day.

Rachel here, back at the helm. So there you have it. I guess someone has to puke every year; last year it was Shawn and this year it was my lucky husband.  Rob, you're up. I'm grateful for the mystery cyclist who helped him along, be he 1 of the 3 Nephites or not, he sure did a good turn that day.  I wonder who will be the puker next time.