Plowing through the prevailing winds of Eastern Wyoming, we felt lucky to find an occasional downhill grade. Our movement was otherwise impeded by headwinds, crosswinds, and elevation gains. Each day finished higher and colder as the high plains transitioned into the Absaroka region of the Rocky Mountains. Our final ascent from the west entrance of Yellowstone National Park carried us up and over Sylvan Pass to Yellowstone Lake and into the land of roaming bison.
After a small tour across the park, we opted for a rest day at the campground in Madison, which turned out to be a great meeting place for touring cyclists. Although our habitual nature for sight seeing called, we were inclined to spend our day relaxing in the campground. Without much time, and without the ease of an automobile to transport us to trailheads, we pledged to return to Yellowstone for more exploring. Nonetheless, our route through the park was sufficient to see a few spectacular sites and realize the popularity behind the place. As I'll explain later, a common theme we're realizing is this: You can't see everything.
Rolling south along highway 287 from Madison to Yellowstone's south entrance, through Grand Teton NP, and into Jackson, we once again witnessed an extended stretch of spectacular scenery. The first of our two day route passed by Old Faithful before ascending three continental divide crossings. As daunting as we expected these three passes to be, they were truthfully minimal compared to our climb up into the park, as well as what we were about to experience over Teton Pass.
On day two, we enjoyed the majestic formations which represent the centerpiece of Grand Teton NP. Having reached Jackson early in the day, we opted to continue up and over the aforementioned Teton Pass, and down into Idaho. A quick glance at the topo map indicated this climb would be steep, but at the time we didn't realize how truly aggressive this grade is: 2,200 feet in five and a half miles, with grades as steep as 10%. Neither Dan nor I needed these statistics to agree by the top that this was the largest altitude gain in the shortest distance we have conquered. Not only were our legs feeling the incline, we could smell a variety of burning auto parts and fluids from the slowly passing cars.
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While resting in Yellowstone at the Madison campground, we enjoyed two nights of trading stories with fellow cross country touring cyclists. Each cyclist we met was en route to cross a continent. The four people we met on the first night were crossing the continental US, from east to west. On our second night in the campground, two men pushed their bikes in at dusk and immediately deflated my ego. They themselves had just met, both coincidentally engaged in the route from Alaska to the southern tip of South America. The next day, on our way out of Yellowstone with these two gentlemen, we met yet another fellow on the same course to Argentina. For them, the adventure has only begun.
Thinking about the immense journey from the north of North America to the south of South America, I can't help but compare such a journey to my own, and reflect on the value of any kind of adventure, small or large. I will always be proud to share this accomplishment, in which I invested much time, effort, and patience, among other things. However, riding from coast to coast and back should be considered no greater feat than riding across a city, county, or state. Our recent encounters with other 'baggers' in Yellowstone have helped me to realize this notion and come to an important conclusion: The value of exploration can't be compared between individuals. In terms of bicycle touring, there are a variety of styles and personalities; some rough it, others don't; some ride long distances each day, others spend more time exploring one place; some spend multiple years on one trip, others a weekend. My point is, whether bike touring or baking cakes, there's no right or better way to do it, what matters is being out there, doing what you love, accomplishing something great in your own mind.
At the Idaho border, we nearly completed the loop by entering our 22nd and final state before returning to Oregon. Thinking of the number 22, it's hard to believe we've ridden in so many states over six months. Some of them for less than a day, a few of them over multiple weeks. Regardless, I would feel safe admitting we didn't see any of these states in their entirety. There exists a paradox for me with the idea of travel, as I continue exploring new places, my desire to see more grows; the wish list gets longer. No matter how much one can try to see everything, there just isn't enough time in the course of a lifetime to truly fulfill this objective. Someone I know claims you will never die if you have another book to read. I further the sentiment by noting you will never die if you have one more place to see.
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Follow our fellow travelers:
Pedal the Unknown.
Wim Heebels (Dutch).
From Addiction to Ambition.
America Bycycle.
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