There have been 10 of them since I rolled across the U.S./Canada border into the state of Montana. I haven't missed one yet.
Monday night "intervals" up Mount Sentinal. I wait for the temperature to drop below 90, and rush full-throttle into spectacular golden light.
Reach the peak just as the last sliver of sun slips below the horizon. Cool breeze and warm sky.
Tuesday after-work ride with the Dirt Girls. We squeeze a couple hours between thunderstorms on a little mountain amusingly called Mount Jumbo.
The fast Arizona visitor wants me to take her picture with the "Big Sky," so I have her take mine.
Life is pretty OK right now.