I made it to my aunt and uncle’s cabin near Burgess Junction Saturday in the afternoon and will be here for a few days, happily disconnected from cell service. I have some pretty limited time with the net right now and need to focus on my route up to North Dakota and across it so this post will be quick.
Granite Pass (9000′) was long, but not too difficult. Shell Canyon at the beginning of that climb was gorgeous, and if you’re ever down that way, be sure to have a meal at Dirty Annie’s before you start the ascent.
When I arrived at the cabin, there were 18 relatives there waiting at the gate to meet me–a pretty exciting moment I’d been pedaling somewhere in the range of 1700 miles to get to. Attached is a photo of my dad and I sitting on the old jeep seat at Riley’s Point. We’ve been 4-wheeling, hiking, and trout fishing, eating and laughing together, and my laundry is all hanging on the line to dry. As my host and uncle Stan put it, it’s great to be around my folks when they’re 1000 miles away from home, in a beautiful setting just enjoying themselves. Being together in a place like this encourages people to talk about things they haven’t talked about in years and really remember the great parts about being family. I’m learning a lot this long great weekend about people I thought I already knew by heart.
111 miles yesterday to Cody and 86 today, the last 10 of which have
been steady switchback climbing. Plus, I'm only halfway up this climb
to Granite Pass (9300'), which will be my highest yet.
Yesterday I really had to blow past a lot of incredible things in
Yellowstone, but this family get-together in Burgess Junction is a
much more unique opportunity. I basically entered at the south gate,
hooked around West Thumb Lake, and shot out the east entrance. Old
Faithful was not involved. I'm definitely going back to Yellowstone,
but would like to time my exploration to a quieter time in the park.
The ups and downs over the last two days have been wild. I was above
8000' at some points in Yellowstone, down to 3800' in Greybul for a
root beer float this afternoon, and tomorrow mid-morning I'll hit that
9300' pass.
From Jackson through the Tetons and on into the South Entrance of
Yellowstone yesterday. Of course, I didn’t leave Jackson until the
afternoon, but I still put on 71 miles before (well, sort of) dark. I
camped at beautiful Lewis Lake Campground, which, of course, was
closed–probably because there was still too much snow on the ground.
I camped at my first “this site reserved for hikers and bicyclists”
campsite, which made me smile. A bit of rain around 1 AM woke me up
quick to put on the rain fly (I swear I had a sky full of stars at 11
when I fell asleep…), amidst an otherwise peaceful night.
Due to some…less than helpful terrain recommendations (“yup, it’s
pretty much flat from here”) I didn’t get to camp until late. Just
after the sun went down, I crested a 6-mile climb and found myself all
alone with a big bison on the narrow, no shoulder road. He was
trotting along the same direction as me in the right hand lane. Afraid
of spooking him, I swung wide into the left lane and slowed way down.
As I passed him, he turned his long head, from horns to that big
grandpa beard they seem to have, looked at me and huffed lightly. I was
amazed, and decided it was most wise to skip out on the photo op just
this time.
I also got to test out my new binoculars to spot a female grizzly bear
lumbering along from mid distance.
Today I’m shooting for Cody, which will put me at an ambitious 110
miles for the day. I’m optimistic, but we’ll just have to see as the
day goes on.
Well, I made it over Teton Pass without trouble Monday afternoon and spent all of yesterday relaxing and running some errands here in Jackson, Wyoming (bug spray, toothpaste, and sunscreen all needed replenishing). I’m very lucky to have Katie (a native of Jackson, pictured here) as a longtime friend. Getting to spend time with her and the rest of her family was such a treat. Just think–a real bed in a real home and a real home-cooked meal. Thanks especially to Betsy for the French toast, Hugh for the talks about routes and roads, busy Andrew for our quick morning chats, and Katie for our good catch-up talks and help with everything around town (and for taking me out to Teton Thai, a very fun restaurant I recommend to anyone in Jackson for a warm evening).
Now I’m ready to go the 280 miles from here to Burgess Junction to meet up with a whole slew of family from Iowa who will be there this weekend. This week is going to be 3 big days of riding followed by a few days off.
I did find a good pair of compact 8 X 25 binoculars while I was in town and look forward to using them on today’s ride through Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone National Park. Because of the family reunion and the timing of everything, I’ll pretty much have to cruise on through these places without too much exploring. Luckily, at 12 mph, I don’t miss much of my surroundings. I’ve never been through here before, and I’m definitely coming back to this area to linger in the future. Like many of the places I’ve passed through thus far, my experience reads like an invitation to come back.
A quick note about my photos on flickr: I think lots of things are out of order and there may be duplicates, etc. That’ll probably be that way until I get to my hometown of Decorah in Iowa and have some solid time to “relax” in front of a computer. If you’re interested in flipping through what’s there, click the photo in the slideshow on the right side of this page and browse around.
Yesterday marks 3 weeks on the road and I believe that during today’s ride I’ll hit a cumulative total of 1500 miles. I’m getting pretty excited to meet up with family Friday evening and will likely stay there through Monday or Tuesday nestled in the Bighorn Mountains. It will be great to have enough time out of the saddle to do a good chunk of hiking, catching up with family (at least a dozen folks will be there, I imagine, including my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, one of my brothers along with his wife and kids), and some genuine loving-care bicycle maintenance. Oh yes, I will have that drive train sparkling silver and may even true the wheels up a little.
The photo here is from breakfast this morning. I'm keeping this short
as tomorrow is a big day and I need my rest: 80 miles to my day out of
the saddle in Jackson and Teton Pass is between here and there. I
think the road goes up to 8700 feet…something like that, which will
be my biggest summit yet.
Today started out as a real challenge. Uphill and into the wind for 8
miles to another 7000-something foot summit. There was an Idaho DOT
weather station at the top and those aenenometer cups were spinning
like mad.
After cresting, it was a mostly smooth 30 miles into Mackay
(pronounced MACK-ee) where I happened upon the tail end of a town
parade and after a little asking around discovered that there was a
rodeo later in the afternoon. That settled that and I headed to the
Miner Hill Grill to grab a hot sandwich while the rodeo got set up.
FYI–they serve fry sauce in Idaho. …and here I thought that was a
phenomenon exclusive to Utah.
I saw calf roping, barrel racing, whatever-you-call-it-when-they-ride-
those-bucking-horses, team roping, and bullriding.
I ended up stopping for the night in Arco, which was the first town in
America to be powered by nuclear energy. Their summer festival is
Atomic Days, which is next month. My legs had more miles in them, but
between here and Idaho Falls is 60-some miles of desert with no
services save a highway rest stop that one out of three locals polled
claims has drinking water. Heading strait east in the morning I
shouldn't have trouble getting through there but I really didn't feel
like attempting it today after all that rodeo business.
This whole trip through the great west I'm becoming more and more
interested in birds–what they find to eat, what they're saying to
each other, which activities are cooperative and which ones are just
every bird for themself. I think I might hunt a little for some
binoculars in Jackson when I get there (hopefully Monday).
Also: any birders who've been messing with the iPhone SDK, let's make
something really good…collaborate with the Audubon Society…the
whole deal. I think there's a really fantastic mobile application
waiting to be developed there…search for colors and characteristics
based on geolocation, add your own date/location/photos to a species
record. Someone will develop this application, I just have a suspicion
that it won't be of the highest quality because there likely wouldn't
be substantive financial reward as motivation.
Stanley was so beautiful and relaxed that I (of course) didn't leave
until well after noon. The late start didn't slow me down along the
very pretty winding road that followed the Salmon River 57 miles to
Challis. I was even spinning my big chainring for a good chunk of
time–something I really rarely do with a touring load. After stopping
there for dinner, I rode another 20 miles southeast of town along US
93 en route to Arco.
So here I am, camped out in nowhere, Idaho and there's some howling in
the distance. The overnight low's supposed to be somewhere in the mild
low 40s. I can hear a car pass by every few minutes but have situated
myself so as not to see them. I generally don't like to camp where I'm
not able to let someone know where I am (mostly to avoid anyone
thinking that I'm somehow trying to be sneaky) but there's really no
one to check with in these parts.
Ok, so the howling sounded like a coyote, sure, but these other
sounds…they are indecypherable to me. Probably some insane bird that
hopefully likes to sleep when I do. The photo here is the view from
inside my tent.
The fiddle contest and festival in Weiser was so much fun. Many thanks
to my Oregon desert friends Bob, Tim, and Lori for convincing me to
head on up there. The contest is one thing, judged and orderly inside
the high school. The fiddlers range through all ages from 9 to 90 I'd
imagine, and I heard one 9-year-old girl play a waltz prettier than
anything I'd heard in a good long while.
The rest of the fest is a disorderly confluence of fiddles, banjos,
mandolins, and guitars, huddled around tents and RVs who've come from
all over the west. The event's been happening since the 1950s and a
lot of folks come back year after year to get together with ILS
friends to play impromptu oldtime, bluegrass, or Texas swing in the
main camping field or off in Stickerville (so named for the goatheads
and stickers that used to end up on everybody's shoes). Thanks very
much to my new friends Barry and Jen for showing me around and
introducing me to Tim, champion fiddler John, farmer Ed with the huge
voice and so many others.
The next day, after unwittingly staying up till 2 in the morning
sitting around jam sessions, I pedaled 94 miles to camp at some hot
springs east of Garden Valley, ID, which really was a good reason to
linger through yesterday morning. I sat in a natural hot tub, so to
speak, overlooking the Payette River rushing down below. A lot of
rafting trips head through here and there were some serious looking
rapids that I'd imagine only the most daring river rats would attempt.
Yesterday, I climbed and climbed (and climbed) up to the 7200 foot
Banner Summit and here I sit in a nice little coffee place in the
little resort/hunting/rafting town of Stanley. The Sawtooth Mountains,
pictured here, are gorgeous. Today I'll be riding through them along
the Salmon River.
Like I said in my previous post, it was 120 miles through the desert to Burns, OR and I’m happy to say I made it. When I got to the town of Valley Falls (consisting of one closed-down store, 3 houses, and 2 RVs) I was lucky to see the man who runs Oregon Desert Brine Shrimp outside his shed who let me fill up my water bottles before heading out into the most remote country I’ve seen yet. I didn’t catch his name, but he lives in Portland most of the year but comes out to Lake Abert (an alkali lake, like the Great Salt Lake in Utah) every summer for the last 25+ years and scoops out brine shrimp while sitting in a small raft, takes them back to his shed to bag them up, and spends the rest of the year marketing and selling the wares. A really interesting guy with a really interesting way of making a living–inspiring. If you browse through my flickr page and think “who’s the guy with those big trays of reddish-brown stuff?” –that’s him. If you ever see this, thanks, friend, for the water.
The first 50 miles were beautiful. There’s a rim of rock rising 2000 feet straight out of the ground along Lake Abert for miles, and the bird life is incredible for how harsh the terrain is. Giant boulders line the roadside and there’s no traffic. There’s a wayside rest area with a drinking fountain and a picknick table maybe 15 miles after the lake where I met up with three kind souls who offered me a fresh carrot and some wild Davis, CA plums on their way to the fiddle festival in Weiser, OR. I’m hoping to go a little out of my way on Tuesday or Wednesday to end up there and maybe meet up with them among the throngs of oldtime musicians.
The second 50 miles were brutal. FYI for any cyclists heading through: at press time, the store in Wagontire is no more, so bring and extra extra bottle to fill up at that wayside station. Also, Alkali Lake Station is just a highway maintainence yard, not a town.
Once I got to Riley, I still had 26 miles to go for Burns, but was able to fill up (and drink, and fill up again) my bottles and have a snack at the store there. Riley, as I learned, is a store and an RV. That’s all.
In Burns, I took all of Sunday off for some good walking around (“Obsidian Days” which turned out to just be a travelling sales event for the rock hunter/RV set), napping, mapping, and mechanical maintainence. I feel ready to hit the road in the morning on Monday.
Oh! Good news. My friend DJ had time to upload the shots from my official pre-trip “photo shoot.” Here’s a photo and a link to the rest.
My body’s in great riding shape now and after today’s rest I’m ready to really start rolling down the road. For my family who’ll be in Sheridan, WY at the end of the month, I ought to make it there just in time. Thanks to all my friends and family who’ve commented or emailed or SMS’d or called while I’m travelling. It’s always nice to hear from familiar voices.
That Bieber Motel was a great place to stay. The dinner I had in that
town ( at Moe's Pizza) was great, as was the breakfast at Kathy's the
next morning.
Thursday, I rode the 54 miles to Alturas and stayed in another $40
motel–I'm getting soft, I know. My rationalle, while sucking down a
peanut butter chocolate shake at The Munchbox, was that the 300 miles
of southeastern Oregon I was about to enter is pretty remote, and I
oughtta be around people while I can.
Friday, when I finally got on the road around 12:30 (after one more
Munchbox peanut butter chocolate shake, I absolutely flew down the
road. I'm camped out now in Oregon, about 20 miles north of Lakeview.
Just before crossing the border, I stopped into a wild plum winery and
tried some samples while talking with the owner. I ended up taking a
jar of wild plum jam along with me which I'm thinking is going to make
a nice breakfast.
Mmph, there are lots of other stories, and I'm noting that my
"writing" is a little bland. This one-thumbed typing is tiresome.
Tomorrow (Saturday) I'm going big and banking on some more winds from
the south. I'd like to get all the way to Burns, some 120 miles away,
though I'd settle for…um…anywhere with dinner. If you look at
Highway 395 on an Oregon map you'll see that there's not much out here
in the way of towns or services.
