Lake Village, continued

Yesterday I hung around this lodge most of the afternoon waiting for a cancellation on a room.  I was pretty much marooned because of the winds and impending cold.  Something came up that was $200 and 15 miles back where I came from.  I didn't take it.  As it got dark, I chatted with some employees who turned out to have an extra room at their place, and invited me to stay.  I was very grateful to have a warm place to sleep, but I had to get up before dawn when everybody went to work.  So I pedaled back to this lodge.

Fog was hanging over the lake and the sun was peeking through.  The lakeshore is a couple of hundred yards down from the lodge, so I took a walk.  There was a lady from Utah standing outside the lodge.  As I walked by, she warned me that I should be very careful.  She was very worried that I would be gored by a sneaky buffalo.  I invited her to follow me down the lake, promising that I would die first while she ran.  She nervously accepted.  

The lodge is a beautiful building but a bit cloying.  It is mostly full of the tour bus set.  New-age music is playing on the PA and there is a gift shop selling useless crap at inflated prices.  I am hoping to get out of this park today since I am obviously having trouble finding somewhere to sleep, and am getting robbed every time I get something to eat at the park grocery.  All lodges and services in the park are run by a company called Xanterra, who has their green leafy earth-friendy brochures and advertisements everywhere.

I have to stay in Teton tonight since it is an unbroken national park almost all the way to Jackson 100 miles away.  The sleeping situation is bothersome and it is totally my fault, which is frustrating.  I have an awesome winter sleeping bag at home.  Maybe I will pick up a medium-duty one somewhere to replace my decades-old Snoopy bag (ok not really), in which the insulating fill has long since collapsed.

Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone.  It's much, much huger than the picture indicates.  It's one of those spaces where the vastness compresses your vision from 3-D to 2-D as the depth and breadth is too much.

Balancing tourism with nature at the park.  The park is totally set up for automobiles, with no public transportation (and no bike lanes).  Xanterra runs a bus that goes around.

Ubiquitous warning sign by the thermal features.  This boy's sister is obviously laughing at him while he gets broiled.

Windy and grim by the lake in the afternoon.

The Lake Lodge, where I hung around in the lobby

Fog lifting over the lake at sunrise

Canyon Village, Yellowstone NP - Lake Village, Yellowstone NP

The weather took a turn for the worse today and I found myself heading into a dead-on headwind as I went south.  Stopped to see the Mud Volcano in all its sulfuric glory.  Mostly I was worried about tonight's weather, which is supposed to dip to the high 20s with chance of precipitation.  Another night to get a room, I believe.  The park's hotels are all full, and there were no cancellations.  Pretty un-psyched about spending the evening at the campground in my quasi-adequate camp gear.  Just met some nice government employees who said I could stay at a staff cabin nearby.  As little as I like to take charity, tonight it seems like a good idea.



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Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone NP - Canyon Junction, Yellowstone NP

Today was characterized by a bit of the park's natural wonders, and a whole lot of climbing on the bicycle.  I awoke somewhat disappointed, as I had imagined a soothing night's rest on an enticing piece of grass heated by geothermal energy.  Instead, the rocky ground seemed more and more like concrete as the night wore on.  Nearby campers caroused until late, and car doors slammed all night long.  On the bright side, the stars here are very dense and bright.  The Milky Way was infinite, and faint shooting stars flashed across the sky.  

In the morning I broke camp to the patriotic sound of thundering RVs and headed up to the Mammoth Hot Springs terraces.  There, heated water cuts through underground limestone and soaks up all the minerals.  Then the water escapes from vents on the side of a mountain and pools out onto terraces of calcium.  Multicolored heat-loving bacteria live in the pools, which are ever-changing due to Yellowstone's mysterious underground plumbing.  A young park ranger gave an uninspired talk about the geology.  It's been a long summer of long hours and low pay.

After purchasing sunscreen and mailing some postcards, I saddled up for the ride to Tower Falls.  It was only 15 miles but the roads here are up and down, up and down.  On the way there I came over a pass which was pretty stout, but didn't have a sign at the top.  I figured that it was Dunraven Pass, which I had heard about.  Sometimes mountain passes have a wicked reputation and really aren't that big of a deal.  Sometimes it goes the other way.  

I coasted down to Tower Falls, ate a plum and a sandwich, and walked out to have a brief look.  I mingled with the tourists, which are of a wide variety.  Various languages are spoken, people carry/drag kids, people bicker, people snap photos, kids have ice cream all over their faces.  Some are in poor physical shape and can barely walk.  Others are dressed like they are mountain explorers, hiking down the level boardwalk with walking poles and safari hats and big boots.  Returning to my bike, I was stopped by several people who wanted to know about the bike and what I was up to.  It's always like that.

It was another 15 or so miles to Canyon Junction, which was where I was going to camp.  I thought it would be a reasonable ride, but I was mistaken.  In fact, Dunraven Pass (elev 8878) lay ahead.  The bottom of the pass is at 6270 feet.  First I was thinking that this was a run-of-the-mill hump, then I conceded that it was a bear.  At some point it was no longer a bear, but a sonovabitch.  Then it was obscene, and finally sadistic.  There were multiple false summits and zero shoulder.  The wattage I must generate to push this bike is at least double compared to an unladen bike.  All day, I estimate I climbed almost 4000 feet.  

Blasting down into Canyon, which wasn't as fun as usual because I was so completely exhausted, I saw my first buffalo lumbering up the road.  It was this enormous shaggy lump, and I had no idea what it was.  I thought maybe it was a wooly mammoth, then a grizzly, then as I got closer I saw its gargantuan head.  It was the size of several vending machines.

Down in Canyon, the campground said "closed for season".  I was all set to camp there anyway, or in the trees, but I walked into the lodge and asked if they had any room.  There was a cancellation and they had a cabin available.  I took it.  I need a decent night's sleep, and need to wash and recharge everything.  

Tomorrow it is supposed to be cold and rainy I think.  [Edit: Just checked the weather.  Chance of SNOW tomorrow night.  Yuck.]  Going to make it down to the West Thumb geyser basin and stay at Grant Village.  Then on to the Tetons.

[p.s. - this internet barely works.  Some of these pictures may not load.]

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Palette Terrace, Mammoth Hot Springs

A huge terrace at Mammoth Hot Springs

I didn't really want such a close-up, but you get what you get when you ask people to take a picture.

Conquered the beast

That is, indeed, a bison.

West Yellowstone, MT - Mammoth, WY

Pedaled into the park today, to my great elation.  I headed north to Mammoth and stopped at the Artists Paint Pots and Norris Geyser Basin.  I arrived at Mammoth in the evening, and set up camp at a cyclists-only campsite here for $5.  No shower so I hiked up the hill to the Mammoth Hotel where I got a shower for $3.  It was almost as clean as the shower at the Albuquerque Greyhound station.  Got some internet for $5.  There is much more to see at Mammoth and I'm going to do some hiking here tomorrow morning.

It is fantastically beautiful.  Everything of course smells like sulfur, and the geysers and springs and mud pots are otherworldly.  You stand there and there is deep gurgling and spitting and hissing.  You can sense that the inferno below is not very far down.  It would be really cool to do some backcountry travel here.  I can't imagine what people thought when they first saw this place.  Thanks to Roosevelt (I think) it's still unspoiled.  I'm glad that it hasn't been converted into one huge Taco Bell.

Traffic in the park is much different than outside.  I'm really glad I came after the Labor Day weekend.  Traffic is actually really light right now, and I am thankful.  Speed limits are low and nobody is in much of a hurry.  However, there is all kinds of erratic behavior.  People slam on their brakes without warning and turn without signaling, deciding at the last second that they ought to see the such-and-such mud pit.  When people see me, they freak out.  People slow way down even in the oncoming lane, causing a backup.  I guess I'm much more interesting than a bison.  When people pass me from behind they slow waaay down and follow me for awhile.  Then after they pass, they look in their rear view mirror and swerve all the way over into the shoulder.  Today a fire truck went inches from going off an embankment doing this; I'm certain it was because he was staring at me through his mirror in curiosity.  

Everyone has to talk to me when I stop about my contraption and my trip.  A surprising number of people offer me advice.  Like, "You're going to Colorado?  Let me warn you, there are a lot of hills."  Hills?  No kidding, Sherlock.  

There was a stiff breeze today, blowing out of the southwest mostly.  I either had tailwinds or crosswinds.  If the wind is the same tomorrow, I will have headwinds and crosswinds.  That will be more effort.  I'm not sure how far I will make it after I spend some time hiking here.

Physically I am feeling strong.  I am taking most hills in one gear higher than before.  Also, I am less conservative about saving energy at the beginning of a long climb, going a little harder from the get-go.  It feels good.  I have some minor chafing on my thighs, windburn on my face, heat rash on my arms and neck where the sunblock clogged my pores, and plenty of insect bites.  I could also use a foot massage.  

Gear-wise, everything is mostly good.  I think there is probably something amiss with the bottom bracket, as it gives me a minor pop on every pedal revolution.  It's annoying, but I don't get the sense that it would fail suddenly.  My socks have holes in them, and my shoes need to be replaced at some point.  Ten years of pedaling in the same shoes and they are stretched to where they fit like house slippers.  I still have not had a flat tire, which is unreal.

Not sure how far I will make it tomorrow, as I will spend some time hiking here.

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Thanks for taking my picture, Asian tourists!

Feels so different

Gibbon Falls/canyon

A bad way to go

Kids staring into a hole, waiting for something to happen

Norris Basin.  This basin covers a huge area, however I couldn't give it justice since I still had to ride 20 miles before nightfall.

America

New setup using the bike.  A bivy may have been a better choice for this trip.

Genius!

Ennis, MT - West Yellowstone, MT

It's been a busy day.  Woke up warm thanks to sleeping on the ground per Jeff's advice.  Left the Ennis RV park this morning with the goal of getting to West Yellowstone, 71 miles away.  Hermann and his family gave me a sendoff.  I cruised through Ennis, stopping to find some camp food, but no luck since everything was closed on account of the holiday.

The road south through the Madison Valley started off fairly humdrum since the road was arrow-straight for miles and I couldn't see much.  The smoky haze blotted out the peaks except for faint silhouettes.  Trucks and RVs ruled the road, but the shoulder was very wide so all was good.  After awhile, the valley narrowed, bringing the scenery closer.  I rode close to the wide river, where lots of people were fly fishing.  I can imagine that fly fishing is pretty good around here, because there are certainly plenty of real flies.  I'm talking about the six-legged kind that fly into the gaps in your helmet or up your shorts.

It was time for a break so I pulled off the road and took refuge under a shade tree.  As I was sitting there, a girl on a horse walked up behind me.  She said hello and I figured she was associated with the nearby ranch.  Turns out her name is Katie and she's a modern-day Sacagawea who is out for a ("short") 12-day excursion on her horse, Flint.  She had a tiny bedroll and minimalist saddle and a few little bags.  Most of these items she made herself, since she is an accomplished tanner.  She was on her way to teach her craft at a primitive skills rendezvous in Idaho.  Her website is www.wilderbabe.com and it's worth a look.

Flint decided that I needed a bath, so he licked the salt off of me for quite some time.  After about 10 minutes of horse licking, I was salt-free!

I said goodbye to Katie and continued south through the valley.  The traffic died off; I think everybody was going home from their vacation.  Some big vistas opened up to the south but I turned east into the park, where I had to ride up the canyon of the Madison.  I passed an enormous rockslide that was triggered by a big earthquake in the 1950s.  Several campers are still buried under it.  The debris blocked the Madison and formed Quake Lake.  Further up, I rode along beautiful Hebgen Lake and then into West Yellowstone.  I must have taken too many pictures because I didn't get into town until about five minutes before sunset.  I took a room at an establishment run by a Chinese lady, who seemed to like me more after I haggled for the price.

West Yellowstone is like Manhattan.  I don't think there is a town with more cultural variety between here and Seattle.  Tourists from every nation are walking the streets, and everybody is speaking a different language.  I ate at a Chinese place and was waited on by a Russian girl named Olga.  The kitchen was on the ball and I was shoveling food into my mouth within minutes.  I think it was good, but I didn't slow down very much.  She came over a few times to ask if everything tasted OK and I answered "Mmmph!  Iff gurph!" through a mouthful of rice.



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Hermann and his rental.  This is a compact compared to some of the monsters on the road.

Do the Rolling Stones stay at RV parks now?

Katie and Flint

First he tasted my handlebars

Then he gave my arm a good bath

Paddling in the Madison

Everyone was fishing here

Southern end of the Madison Valley.  I took a left before those mountains.

Pause at Hebgen Lake

Just outside town

Dillon, MT - Ennis, MT

Today was a successful day, with great scenery and a decent amount of effort.  It seemed like forever before I could get out of Dillon, since everything was moving slowly and the town was packed with fair/rodeo fans.  I stopped at a sporting goods store, looking for a hat and gloves.  The salesmen tried to get me to buy a raffle ticket for a new rifle they were giving away.  I explained that I was on my bicycle and it would be awkward to carry a rifle.  They said not to worry, people mount them on ATVs all the time, and they even sell mounting hardware.  I let my chance at the rifle slip away, but got what I was after and soon I was on the road headed north.

For awhile I was moving at warp speed with a strong tailwind and a big wide shoulder.  I ate up 10 miles in a hurry, but then the shoulder disappeared and the road narrowed.  The white line was painted on the edge of a dropoff, the speed limit was 70, and there was limited sight distance.  Anxiety increased.  The night before, Google Maps had shown me a cutoff route which I had determined to be unsuitable. All of a sudden, it seemed like a much better idea.  The deal was sealed when I passed some touring cyclists going the other direction and shouted across the road "is there any shoulder up there?"  They shook their heads in misery as trucks rumbled by.  That was it, I turned onto the gravel road and I didn't care if I had to push my bike 30 miles through ranchland.

It turned out to be OK.  The road surface was variable, with some loose gravel and potholes and soft earth from last night's rain.  But there were hardly any vehicles at all.  Occasionally a rancher wearing a Montana-sized hat would drive past slowly in a Montana-sized pickup, and we would wave.  I think you'd get by in this country if you had two heads and gigantic tentacles, as long as you waved at everyone.

After 30 miles on gravel (bless my tires), I got back to the two-lane road which hadn't gotten any wider but was less busy.  I cruised through Virginia City which is an old ghost town with lots of tourists.  I find that I am often the main tourist attraction when I wheel by.  There was a tourist bus driving along with kids waving at me instead of listening to the narration.

An unnamed beefy 1900-foot climb at the end brought me up and over into the Madison Valley, with the Madison River and the Madison Range coming into view.  The range presents a huge panoramic wall of peaks as far as the eye can see.  Tomorrow I ride south through the valley and into West Yellowstone, which is 71 miles away.

In Yellowstone, there is supposed to be cyclists-only camping, which I am excited to check out.  There are also supposed to be a lot of bears.  Tony, the cop I passed a few days ago, said he sprayed a bear from his bike.  He proudly showed me his bear spray can which mounted in place of one of his water bottle cages.  He said that if it wasn't for the bear spray, he would have been lunch.  I acted interested but I can't see myself going that route for a variety of reasons.  I need my bottle cages, and there's just no way I'm going to ride around spraying bears.

Tonight I am camped at the Ennis RV Park, which is really big.  There are probably 100 RVs here but it's very quiet and it's a beautiful night.  A German family pulled in next to me in a rented RV and we chatted.  Dad's name is Herman, and his teenage boys are Alex and Michael.  They seemed pretty amazed that I was riding my bicycle around.  They said they are headed to the park tomorrow.  I've been dreading the ineptitude of all the RVers driving around Yellowstone.  Being from Germany, Herman is probably safe.

Dinner-plate sized moon is coming up and the Big Dipper is above, but the smoke in the air still hangs like smog.



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Bumpy ride, lots of hills and sand traps but no traffic

This old beast was parked at Nevada City ghost town.  Lots of old rail lines met there.

Tours of Nevada City

The thrilling descent into the Madison Valley

And in anticipation of Yellowstone, allow me to share my favorite Youtube tourist-trampling video.  I've watched this dozens of times and it never gets old.  Notice how the guy first threw a rolled-up newspaper at the buffalo to start the action.

Jackson, MT - Dillon, MT

Another question I am often asked: are you actually enjoying yourself?  I am.  I really like riding my bike, and it makes me feel strong.  I like the smells and the scenery is fabulous.  Certainly I like the feeling of accomplishment.

With that said, I made it into Dillon, MT this afternoon, soaked.  The day started off well, as I BS'ed with some Harley folks at the last joint this morning.  I rode out of the Big Hole across two mountain passes, neither of which were brutal, although the elevations keep climbing.  The last one was at 7400 feet.    It was a beautiful road with very few vehicles.

About halfway through the ride, dark clouds showed up on the horizon, and it didn't take long for them to merge into a huge gray wall of evil.  I picked up the pace as lightning was striking a few miles away and thunder was booming.  I figured if I could make it over the next pass I could outrun it.  I actually made it over the pass in time, cranking away, beating the storm.  Unfortunately, as I crested the hill, I saw that another big storm was in front of me.  Dillon was only 15 miles away, and I flew down in high gear trying to get to town before the storm did.  I didn't make it.  The headwind roared and rain pellets were stinging my face.  Eventually it got bad enough that I took shelter under a bush.  After awhile there was a bit of a lull and I rode the rest of the way into town, wet.

I got a room since I didn't feel like getting soaked tonight.  The desk guy was grumpy about letting me bring my bike into the room, but he relented and let me put it in the maintenance area.  There is a big rodeo and fair in town tonight, but I'm going to skip it because it's on the other side of town and I don't feel like riding at night.  It would involve going through a highway interchange and down a busy road in the dark, which wouldn't be much fun.  Tomorrow I should be back on the deserted roads again.  It's supposed to be sunny and nice and I'm looking forward to it.






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No services, nice view

Big empty

The storm approaches.  I only stopped for a second before hauling my ass out of there.

Me riding riding fast to try to get into town

Narrating from under a bush