Riding The Continental Divide by Mountain Bike 2023

 

Riding The Continental Divide by Mountain Bike

August 2023

“"I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened. I have spent most of my life worrying about things that have never happened.” Mark Twain

 

 

Day zero

Alas, they killed off my hero, James Bond in his last movie. Bond’s eulogy is a fitting counterbalance to Twain’s quip on worry, “The function of a man is to live, not to try to preserve his existence “ Jack London

What is it in our creature that despite our longing for new illustrious experiences, we belabor ourselves with preparing for future calamities with unknown consequences?  I was no different in the days leading up to this ride, wracking my brain with the possibilities not of seeing Wyoming’s beauty but solely of what could go wrong.

Via 2023’s ultimate source of information aka YouTube, we became aware of a few particular miseries that could befall us.  1. A 220 mile stretch called “The Great Basin” with unknown access to water and  ‘hidden’ spring of water that we couldn’t afford to miss. 2. A particular steep section of dirt road peppered with shards of tire eating rocks.  Other than that, we only had to worry about a few climbs to nearly 10,000 ft elev, lightning storms, bike stopping mud, deep sand, torturous head winds, bike breakdowns…what did I leave out?  Oh ya, no chocolate or cold beer.

Despite having ridden 400 miles of the Continental Divide in 2022 and retiring from my day job last December, I found that I wasn’t enjoying myself preparing all the gear for this year’s ride. There was a logical stalemate, the goals of preparing for a bike packing trip are in opposition to themselves; eliminate weight and being prepared for anything that could happen. Interestingly, the solution is in choosing the size of your pack. After that, you can only fit so many items. So, despite trying to travel light, my bike and gear weighed in at the airport at nearly half my body weight.  In my last year’s report, I made the analogy that the bike feels like there is a little hippo riding on the back.  I hope the hippo lost some weight this year.

On a regular trip, getting into the airport is stressful because of all the no-go rules that someone else is going to decide for you. Bringing a bike in a box just adds another layer. Is the box too big? Is it too heavy? How much extra in fees will the wrong answer cost us?  With some relief, all four bikes made it and each of us paid a different fee. The only casualty was Dale’s high end peanut butter and body soap both deemed a security risk and swiftly ejected by TSA inspectors into a secure trash can.  So we can fly with peace knowing those two dangerous goods had been apprehended.

I suppose I’ll introduce quickly the cast of four characters on this year’s trip. All of us have been labeled “The Olds” by my son with myself being the youngest at 62.   On the left of this photo there’s Jeff, six foot something and a powerful rider with a penchant for always wanting to do a bonus ride. In the blue is Dale, I think someone must’ve given him a spin bike as a kid since he’s unstoppable both on the bike and his quick wit. On the far right there’s Stu, a retired Navy Commodore. Stu is the big idea guy. Probably the schemes got him in lots of trouble when he was a kid but it became his asset in life. He’s the one who hatched this ordeal… er.,, idea. How can I introduce myself?  An engineer by trade, I probably overthink everything (but I’ll think about it and let you know). I like helping people and I’m constantly in motion. It would take pages to write our ‘adventure resumes’ but it would be more entertaining if you bought us a cup of coffee and asked for the stories.

2023’s section of the Great Divide was to ride from Wyoming into Colorado.  A mere 500+ miles.  Most of them downhill (per the map profile… more to follow which is code for foreshadowing)

Day Zero

ah yes the trip, where was I?  We fly to the famous Grand Teton NP. Not wanting to waste time, we will assemble our bikes at the airport and just start riding thirty miles!  We will skirt the national park which should be on everyone’s must-do list and camp in the lap of the Tetons. There’s not enough film to do this justice. (Film was stuff you put in cameras).

Everything went splendid at the airport and we were in great spirits riding the dedicated bike trail to Teton NP.  In a mere four hours, we were dog tired…. And technically, we haven’t even started the actual planned bike route.

We camped at Lake Jackson nestled at the top of Teton National Park.  I crawled into my tent before the sun set.  I went to work to start the first iteration of re-organizing all of my equipment.  I started the notes for this story as my creativity started to fade fast I switched and read from the Book of John which I tore out from my pocket Bible to save weight. I was asleep by verse six.

The night was in the cold part of the forties and we got a few small rain showers but the cold and the rain were not going to ruin my hard-earned sleep.

 

Author’s sidebar:  Note small physiological oversight in planning: Flying from sea level to 6000 ft elevation and then riding up another 1000 has been known to send some to the hospital.

944 of elevation climbed

6800 rough elevation today

33 miles traveled by bike.

 

Day 1 

(Why not day 2 you may ask? On day Zero, we doubled back on the route that we rode in 2022 to get to the “beginning” of 2023’s ride.) 

 

Big climb day.

 

The next morning, we ate at the park’s restaurant!  Having a good rest and meal, I had the wherewithal to repack all my gear yet again with the goal of getting as much weight off my backpack and onto the bike.

This arrangement made me significantly happier.  The reason was rather simple, in 2022 my previous bike saddle tortured my sit bones with extreme prejudice.  On Day Zero, in less than an hour my rear end was again unhappy.  I reasoned that less weight on my back equaled less on my butt equaled happier riding.  Also, more is not better and the additional gel saddle cover that I brought was removed too.  This arrangement proved significantly worth the investment over the next 12 days.

  

It’s hard to explain but early in the trip, it’s stressful to find the groove where the gear, the rider, the bike are in harmony trying to tackle the trail. Everything early in the ride is new and creates opportunities for worry.

Speaking of which, today we are supposed to reach the highest elevation 9546 ft. I ponder why the hardest ride of both years was on Day 1?? 

Taking the sting out of the climb was the simply amazing views of the Tetons and the rivers feeding the lakes. I had made the mental note to bring my family back here someday.

The climb was hard but we make our usual “shade stops“ to give our legs a time to catch up.  By 3:00 pm we reached a gas station and a lodge at 8500 ft elevation. Doing the math, it would take us another three hours to reach the summit so we decided to stop for the day and not summit.

We asked around and there was a primitive campsite just behind the lodge up in the hills. Primitive was an appropriate description since it basically was a flat spot on the dirt.  We set up camp and rode back down to the lodge and purchased hot showers in the RV camping area. Luxury!  With the Tetons as our backdrop, we ate our first dehydrated dinner. Tired but in a much better mood than yesterday.

 

2600 ft of elevation climbed

33 miles traveled by bike which was nearly the exact distance as yesterday

 

Day 2

Cold! We woke up to 38 degrees which probably was due to our extreme elevation. With the breeze, it was impossible to get warm. The sun was rising but being blocked by a mountain. We had hot coffee and oatmeal but any heat was stolen quickly by the cold breeze. I learned a valuable tip that I will share.  Far better to stay in your tent, change into the day’s riding clothes, organize and pack everything you can before stepping out into the cold breeze. 

 

It’s amazing how many things require feeling in your fingertips to properly operate!  The sun came up and we started feeling human again.

 

Speaking of up, we started climbing right away. Our first summit of the day was Togwotee Pass 9560 ft. Early in the climb, I saw a shiny penny winking at me so I stopped and grabbed it. This was no small penny as my mom who is not with us was known to have amassed a small fortune in pennies that she had found.  I pondered that perhaps this was a sign that she wanted to ride along with us.

 

At nearly the peak of the pass was one of those highway pullouts but this one indicated a lake.  Lake? At the top of the mountain?  We pulled in and were treated to an alpine lake nestled in a canyon. How can I even begin to do God’s beauty justice? We sat and ate our first “cowboy taco” which was a flour tortilla, peanut butter, and a squirt of honey.  Not gourmet but on the scale of dehydrated food, it was a solid “kinda tastes good”

 

Naturally, riding downhill was a welcome relief but even good things come to an end. In the afternoon, we climbed back up to 9000 feet again. The afternoons are always work. We played the game of ride and find shade after every 100 ft of elevation gain. If there is a reward in all this effort it truly is the views of the mountains surrounding us.   I think to myself, I need to bring Theresa back here again (but drive!) the second time up to 9000 ft wore us out. The map said there was another “informal campground” a few miles away so we coasted down the hill into cattle filled grass meadow with a stream trickling through.  The no-cost price was right so we stayed. After our dehydrated dinner, our routine was to look at the map and then disappear into our tents.  Every day, it’s always the same hope, we look at the map hoping for a break in climbing.  The climb profile was a cruel liar.  If one did not look closely, those tiny little saw teeth each meant multiple hundreds of feet in climbing.  Again, we were so tired that we went to bed a little after 7:00 pm, beating the sun and the cows to sleep.

 

Camp Elevation 8,520 ft

2500 ft of elevation climbed

31 miles traveled by bike

 

Day 3

We woke up to the stream still percolating it’s happy way towards some distant ocean. We were at 8500 ft. Everything was soaked from the cold air and moisture. Jeff said his Garmin said 36 degrees but he thought it was reading too cold but Id say my cold feet indicated 36.5 deg. Fortunately, the sun came up quickly and sent its rejuvenating energy into our little four tent camp. We purposely left our tents up longer to dry all the water out.

Our ride today is supposed to be the hardest of the trip but one should be leery of labels as it was hard but not the hardest (more foreshadowing). It’s one thing doing a hard climb and it’s another thing not having done it before because our imaginations can be our enemy. Our goal was to climb over Union Pass at 9560 ft but the book enigmatically said that we “ride down to Union Pass” so reality was that we rode over an unnamed summit at 9620 ft only then to go down to Union Pass. Our computer told the story, we rode 13 miles with a climb of 2550 ft and average speed of 4.7 mph. So to connect the dots, it should’ve been 1300 ft of climbing but we went over two ridges before the summit.

At Union Pass, we officially crossed the continental divide again. There was a sign that said the water here flows in three directions across the continent.

Next we rode some 13 miles all above 9000 ft. It’s definitely breathtaking in two ways!  We were going to stop at a campground called Buffalo Meadows but there was nothing there so we decided to ride another 6 miles to a friendly place called Mosquito Lake. The mosquitoes were really friendly but the lake wasn’t. The lake bottom was too goopy so we couldn’t get our post ride bird bath.  We tried our ‘trust worthy never let you down’ water filter but the lake water proceeded to clog the filter.  Hmm lets see No water = no drinking.  No drinking = no survival.  Several options to solve this dilemma were hatched over dinner.  Dinner was late at 7: PM and despite a nice campfire, we all disappeared into our tents for another night almost at 9000 ft.  I’m serenaded by cattle lowing as I write these notes.

 

3500 ft of elevation climbed

46 miles traveled by bike

 

Day 4

August 13

Today we decided to make up a little bit of time from the half day we lost on Day 1 and ride 47 miles.

I can finally understand why Californians move to Montana. It’s beautiful up here. At this elevation all the trees are elms with shimmering leaves. We are riding through the most rugged and beautiful mountains in the country.

Today was a nice downhill coming out of the mountains. Do you recall our second biggest worry about the sharp rocks?  Today is the day. We really enjoyed getting a little downhill break.  After a few swooping turns, we did find ourselves in a rocky downhill but it was manageable.  In fact, we couldn’t really agree if we had been through the so-called treacherous section. We finally reached an area that the dirt road ended and some pavement started.  It’s always a bit of cultural whiplash to go from remote trails to pavement and all the campers ‘roughing-it’ in 40 ft mobile homes.

 

On these long rides we have lots of time to solve life’s problems. As we crank along it gets tiring so sometimes we listen to music. Jeff has some songs downloaded to his phone. The first song that came up was Rolling Stones “can’t always get what you want.”  I thought Mick really nails it in the next line when he says, “if you try real hard, you just might find you get what you need”.  It seems fitting on this kinda ride to think the secret in life trying really hard to find what you need.

Speaking of real hard, we finished our longer ride today and everyone was gassed out. Fortunately, we got a hotel in one of the few real towns called Pinedale WY. Roughing it make us appreciate the luxuries like doing laundry, a shower, and a meal. We ate dinner and even ordered dessert (my first chocolate in five days!)  Having a taste of the cushy life this early in the trip also has a negative effect, the realization that we were only 100 miles into 500+ ride!

 

500 ft of elevation climbed

-2000 ft drop

47 miles traveled by bike

 

Day 5

August 14

Our stay at a hotel in Pinedale was a good recharge but left me homesick.

To add to our renewed feelings of doom, the trail guide book warns for the next section, “be careful because the next 220 miles have no food or water so stock up.”  Wait !  220 MILES ?!?!? even at 40 miles per day that is five days!  Is it possible to carry that much water and food?

At this point, there’s no option other than move forward. We rode out of town in the crisp high altitude air. As if to say thanks and goodbye, there was a nice little bike path paralleling the road for about a mile and there was a gentle tailwind too.

We rode by a tall pole with an artificial nest at the top. Proudly looking down at us was a bald eagle.

For the most part, we ticked off miles down the shoulder of a highway. We were making such good progress that we almost missed our turn back into the wilderness. The road was the most groomed dirt road I’ve ever seen.  It started its long journey towards the mountains far off.

After some climbing, We looked back over a long valley. I made the comment, “we are a long way away from where we were and a long way away from where we will go.”  On that thought, we silently turned and started pedaling.

Cranking along, we were in the direct abuse of the overhead sun. As I squinted forward, I looked at the range of mountains and I thought to myself. “Oh no, we’re gonna have to climb over the top of that in the heat of the day.!”

Sure enough, the little dirt road turned and we headed up the mountain. Spoiled by the down hills and the flats, our legs became lazy. When we ask our legs to climb another 800 feet at first they refuse belligerently.

We take solace that the climb is 1.2 miles long and with our nav system proudly showing that our campsite is only 2 miles away. Alas, the last bit of the hill won.  I stopped my bike, got off and start pushing. The computer said I’m going the same speed as when I was pedaling. I ignored the fact and took in the view of the range. Six summits majestically were stacked before me. Proudly above the tree line, the mountains reached with tiny patches of snow still remaining in the cracks. In humility amongst this beauty,

I must look like a vagabond of old. On my handlebars, I’ve strapped my tent, my sleeping bag, the poles, and my tent tarp. On the back rack is my yellow waterproof bag with one change of clothes and three dinners, breakfast and snacks. In my backpack is my water.  In the afternoons the water feels way too heavy.  Yet, by now, we all have organized our things a munch of different ways.  We were now starting to become harmonious with our bikes and our legs not barking at thin 9000 Ft elevations.

Here is a bizarre yet welcome story.  We reached another “informal campground” and possible water supply.  Our hopes were high as we rolled up to see the usual band of green plants growing near the stream.  As if we were in a old western movie, we looked down in disbelief. The ‘stream’ was nearly dry with some muddy puddles and cow prints and pies everywhere.  All that was missing was some dead animal. Not the welcome trickle of water we were expecting.   So were rode past and up to the next little rise to discuss our options.  Thirty miles in any direction from something civilized then comes a new Ford Astrovan coming to stop with a cloud of dust and this crazy bearded Gandolf looking man rolls down his window and says, “You mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“uh, not really.” We replied.

“You want a beer?” he said.

You would’ve thought he was the ice cream man the way our faces lit up.  As he is handing out the cold beer, he introduces himself as the “Lorax” aka Dr Suess’ mystical character who cares for trees.  He also discussed that he had seen the government’s new nuclear powered aircraft but he could’ve said anything after we had cold beer in hand. We just gave our best George Noory from Coast to Coast AM radio answer, “Wow fascinating!”

After the Lorax left us, We all took a sit down break in the dirt to study the map for some welcome tidbit of information.  With some resignation, we came to the decision that we were going to ride another 10 miles to the next campground. As we trudged forward, Stu said begrudgingly, “at some point the hills stop getting hard and just get boring.”  Ha ha ha. Stu.

A few miles before our stop, a creek ( crick as they say) ran under the road so we scooped up some water and filtered it into a circus of water bottles and drinking bladders.

As we summitted the last hill Jeff declared “we’re here!” We rolled off the trail into a meadow decorated with large bolder piles and another crick running through it.  At this point, the reader is probable pondering the same thing as us, “Why tell everyone that there’s 220 miles of no water? Why not do a more detailed job of saying where the water might be found?”  It’s not a question to answer here.

Happily and none the worse for the wear, we clocked a few extra miles today.  Everyone got a decent bird bath to refresh in the creek and enjoyed our beer.

 

 Finishing again above 8000ft elevation.  The view of the sunset was beyond what a photo could capture.

 

2300 ft of elevation climbed

55 miles travel by bike

 

Day 6

August 15

We ride on the continental divide and cross over three different times. 

Have you ever flown over the country and look down at some dirt road crossing miles and miles of open Prairie?  

 
Today, we were riding on one of those roads.  Early in the cool morning, it was a ride that dreams were made of.  A decent amount of coasting which made it easier to take in the 40 mile views.  The dirt road led us to pavement around 11:00 and within a few miles we were at a very well maintained roadside rest stop.  At this point, a picnic table was nearing luxury.  We ate a few Cowboy Tacos.  Refilled our drink systems. (More abundant water)  Stu and Dale found a patch of cool grass to lay down in.  We had to push back and force ourselves to hit the road.  The tandem trucks buzzed us on the highway shoulder.  In less than five miles, we were back on a dirt road across the high plains.  At some point, we were near the Oregon Trail and the Pony Express trail.  In the middle of a steep deep canyon, there was a ghost town.  The state had converted it into a park. (More abundant water)  The bonus to us was that there was a little place that sold tickets and in the back of the store was a tiny cooler with cold sodas.  We got our sodas and went outside in search of a proper place to sit.  Behind the building were three hikers.  One old guy who looked like a living scarecrow.  Two gals who were at the opposite end of the spectrum. We surmised that the girls were not hiking with the guy.  We quizzed them about the hiking experience.  How does someone find months to hike the country at 2 miles per hour?

We stopped at a city called Atlantic City.  It sounds like a big town and perhaps in the past mining days it was. Today there’s only one restaurant albeit a museum with so many artifacts hanging on the walls.  I stopped to read a story of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Butch it seems settled down in Wyoming after supposedly being dead in that famous shootout in South America. 

While we ate dinner in the restaurant, we camped in the sticks just north of town by a robust running stream.  (More abundant water)

Tomorrow, 😬we ride into the Great Basin. It’s the sum of our fears. 120 miles. No water. No nuthin. Our minds dwell on it.  

Some try to prepare, some try to ignore, some won’t even try. We must prop up our courage knowing how prepared we are and the preparation we have done. 

In our minds, we convince ourselves that once we are through the Great Basin, the hardest part of the journey will be done. Oh, except for another 9,000 ft elevation summit in Colorado. 

2500 ft of elevation climbed 

33 miles traveled by bike

 

Day 7

August 16

The night was not as cold or wet as prior nights allowing us a swifter departure. 

We met some amazing people this morning. We at first mistook them for some modern gypsies. When we introduced ourselves, we discovered that we were totally wrong.  They were retirees that travel the country restoring historic places. They all had a variety of tradecraft to support the restorations. They were kind enough to invite us to a cup of coffee. If only we had more time it would’ve been nice to get more of their stories. 

We knew from the map that there was a big climb out of Atlantic City so while I reloaded on water in town, Stu, wanting to get the climb over and Dale, never wanting to be last, rode out of town.  By the time I got ready to roll and checked the GPS, Jeff and I discovered that our loyal crew had departed but were going out the wrong way.  Fortunately or ironically (reader’s choice) a car drove by and told Jeff, “This is the wrong way to the trail head of the ride”  They were kind enough to drive up and turn Dale and Stu around. 

As soon as we left the modest town of Atlantic City in the correct direction, there was a nice wake up call of 11% climb!  11% ! even a car would struggle.  Anything steeper than 8% becomes a good reason to get off and 
 
push.  Leaving town, we were near maximum weight.  Between the bike, gear and water, that’s another 80 lbs to pull up the hill.  We had fully loaded our extra water bladders to cross the Great Basin.  An estimated two days plus of riding! 

As we rolled into the Great Basin, it exceeded expectations. Seldom do we get to see as far as the eye can see yet see rolling nothingness. The road was in better condition than our imaginations had foretold. We also were blessed with a tailwind. 

As mentioned, the first ‘must find’ spot was a water well ( really just a pipe sticking out of the ground) some 23 miles down the road. Even though we can see the spot on our GPS, there’s no sign and it’s about a 100 yards from the road. Not location friendly.  We again reloaded every water system we carried. (More abundant water)  Each of us for a total of 6-10 liters. I was carrying two full water systems in my backpack. It’s a lot of added weight for going up and down hills. Just outside the spring, I spotted another penny mostly buried in the dirt. I picked it up and smiled remembering how my mom used to love to find pennies. 

As the sun grew high, we had made decent mileage but it was getting hot. In the middle of nowhere, there was an oil pumping field. Not finding any place reasonable to sit, we hid from the sun in the shade of the gurgling crude storage tanks. Next stop was a place on the map called Arapaho Creek. We were hoping for even the smallest of stream but it was a mud stream today. We pushed on and finished the day further across the Great Basin than we had imagined. 

We ended up on a rise in the middle of a vastness that is hard to describe. So harsh that even the sage here only grows half of its normal height. 

Tomorrow we will try to start early and get some more miles before it gets too hot. 

2000 ft of elevation climbed 

60 miles traveled by bike!

 

Day 8

August 17

If separation makes the heart grow fonder then desolation gives the mind time to ponder.  

Our campsite although desolate was in its own way amazing. As the sun set over the horizon many miles away, it felt like it was right on my tent porch. The feelings of gratitude towards God for all the loving people I am graced with. 

Today our plan was to get up before sunrise and get an early start riding to avoid the heat. While successful on the early start, the heat was to be another story. 

The Great Basin is flat but only in a ‘net’ mathematical sense. We would coast down a quarter mile the crank back up the next. Today there was no tailwind for support. The wind was nearly head on which had us huffing and puffing all morning. 

Perhaps it sounds repetitive but our biggest concern today was availability of water.  Yesterday’s heat made it difficult to ration our water.  Dehydrated meals also need water.  It’s a good thing we weren’t riding horses!  Our guide book talks in general terms without enough information to really be informative. To make matters even more interesting, the distance to reach the next town totaled up wildly different from the book and our map. The combination made for some anxiety. That and the combination of simply being tired we had some moments where everyone was a little grumpy. Someone who doesn’t want to be quoted, pointed out that we’re all hot, tired, and “bristly”

Fortunately, after four hours of riding, we finally found the A&M reservoir hiding in a canyon. (More abundant water)  we were thankful that it had an abundant amount of water. Unfortunately, our water purifier and our backup purifier both were getting clogged. Fortunately, We did leave with enough water and decided to take the road to the town of Baroil.  We made much better progress navigating the Great Basin than we thought.  We estimated 2 ½ to 3 days but finished in two days. We say goodbye to the Great Basin.   Unfortunately, as we rolled into town we discover there’s no store, no gas station, not much of anything in Baroil. Fortunately, the only human we saw told us there’s a soda machine in the community center. Just as we were buying a soda from the machine, a lone clerk popped her head around the corner and told us that there were free cold Gatorades in the kitchen!  The first soda barely fell from the machine and we were all back in the little kitchen which was also the city hall.

Leaving Baroil with a wave, we pounded pavement with the remote hope of making it into Rawlings. The fact was that it would require us to ride farther than we have in one day   Our best day was in the fifties and this would be about 70. 

At the end of the day, we climbed the hill called “9 mile hill”. It didn’t disappoint. It turns out that 9 mile hill is both 9 miles long of climbing up, and 9 miles from town.  We were fried by the time we rolled into town so we stopped at the first Mac Donald’s and Stu got his ice cream float he was dreaming about.  Ironically, after several phone calls, we reserved a hotel that was on the other side of town and uphill.  Only to discover, misery does not love company.  But a cold beer can turn that around again.

?2300 ft of elevation climbed 

73 miles traveled by bike!

Day 9

August 18

Waking up in our hotel, everything is charged back up including our spirits. 

Today was the most difficult for real this time. 

We dropped into a well stocked Dollar store found lots of random things we needed. Even before we left town, the wind was doing its best to push us over. Right at the edge of town, the hill climbing started!  And then it never stopped.  Climbing can be hard.  Riding into the wind is mentally and physically exhausting.  Battling an unseen and changing resistance.  For a short period, we had to pedal hard downhill.  No mercy.

Between the wind and the climb, we agreed to stop at the campground around mile 24. Reasoning was that riding in headwind uphill would only burn us out quickly.  Fortunately, a very nice man named Matt stopped his pickup in the middle of the road and gave us some cold waters. Note: in Wyoming, you can stop in the middle of the road for ten minutes with barely the worry that another car may come along.  Unfortunately, the camp area was not much more than a culvert with a slow creek running through. We walked around looking to make the best of it but there certainly was no best to be found. 

So we agreed that we would just “ratchet“ ourselves up a four mile climb with 1000 feet of elevation gain.  Ratchet was code that we could stop and walk anytime.  So we began a series of ride-walks to make it manageable. At one summit, we reached a roadside cooler that someone had placed full of ice and water!  

As we laughed hysterically* about the free cold water, we noticed on each side of us were black clouds and chance lightning on the horizon. 

In another surprise blessing, there was a brand new campground with picnic tables at the top of the hill so we joyfully rolled in.  As I write these notes, we are holed up in our tents hoping it doesn’t pour rain tonight. 

*Author’s prerogative.

2000 ft of elevation climbed 

31 miles traveled by bike!

1 nasty headwind most of the day

Day 10

August 19

The night’s rainstorm was kind to us. The clouds were heavy and the wind made us tie our tents down with extra cord.  Although it probably wasn’t as bad as the hurricane getting ready to hit San Diego, we felt just as exposed. 

Fortunately, like the movie Moses, the storm went to either side of us and we just got some fat raindrops. 

We started riding in great spirits. Perhaps a combination of knowing that we had got the big climb out of the way already or that we were only a few days away from Steamboat CO. Or perhaps it was because we slept nearly 12 hours ( because of the storm we ate our dinner in our tents and fell fast asleep with full tummies. )

The morning was cool and we had a little downhill run. Of course, Wyoming doesn’t give up easily, we were back climbing/walking again soon. 

We honestly didn’t know how long we would ride today. An interesting camp was located 43 miles away but with some serious elevation between us.  We plodded on. 

There were some screaming downhills but we knew that we would have to pay Mr Gravity back. 

With some fortitude, we made it to the interesting camp which actually was a ranch that kept a Welcome Matt out for cyclists. It’s a sheep herding ranch and has been in their family since 1883. Now they graciously feed and allow bicyclists to camp or rent a room. 

We took the ever needed shower and now are famished waiting for supper to be served at 7:00 PM which as you will note is after our bed time. With some grand anticipation, we were expecting one of those ranch dinners that would feed four grown men.  Served up on a metal plate, Biscuits, potatoes, steak, fresh milk from the dairy and peach cobbler with ice cream.  Instead, we ate with the hired hands a meal of rice casserole, pizza, and Countrytime Lemonade.  Better than dehydrated chow but not the Black Angus that we were expecting.

2736 ft of elevation climbed 

43 miles traveled by bike

 

Day 11

August 20 

Our quest to answer life’s big questions is coming to a close. But I’m not sure I’m any closer to the answer than when we started. 

There two tangents we could ponder about such quests: this extreme ride allows us to see the beauty of this world up close or do we do this to somehow see the beauty in ourselves.  I had some time to think about this and conclude; If you flew over this great expanse, you may look down in awe seeing the endless grandure of America.  If you drove the same route, you’d have more appreciation for the remoteness and some pretty sights. When you slow down and ride it, you get all the senses involved and with that comes an appreciation that has to be experienced. 

Honestly, I would pose that riding is probably the most exertion.  Walking would certainly take longer but less exhausting.  Running may be harder but so far I haven’t heard of some one other than Forrest Gump doing such a feat.

                  3116.       ft of elevation climbed 

29 miles traveled by bike

 

Day 12

August 21

 

Last Day of riding

 

Today was supposed to be easy. A few things stood between us and easy. Yesterday there was a steep downhill into the campground which meant we’d have a steep climb to get back up to the road. Next, the distance was longer than expected. Finally it was supposed to be hot today. But I shouldn’t spoil the story so early.

After leaving the challenge of climbing out of our campground, we did have a nice decline and rolled into a little store serving real coffee and treats. For the first time in the twelve days, we stopped and enjoyed an hour break. The sun doesn’t take breaks so we got back on the road for the last twenty miles into Steamboat Springs. We rolled into town around noon. Like any athlete who finishes the race, we were filled with joy and emotion. We took pictures. We called family. And then slowly, the efforts soaked away the joy. Tired and hot, we sat on a curb in town, 530 miles.  Roughly 30,000 ft of climbing. 

 

Perhaps, I dwelled a bit too much on the effort.  No story can capture all of the experience.  Philosophically, somehow the discomfort starts to quickly wilt and the Kodachrome 360 views start to blossom.  I confess that more than once I serenaded our group with America the Beautiful.  (any encore requests seem to have resolved themselves).  The person who wrote the song surely traveled to Wyoming.

 

The trip by the numbers:

530 total miles of riding

33,500 ft of climb

Max elevation 9,800 ft  Ave elevation 8,000 ft

0 flats, 0 injuries, 1 rootbeer float, 3 bags of Payday bars, 28 dehydrated dinners, 6 renditions of America the Beautiful