Yellowstone National Park – Day 3

riding with the swiss

After a few cups of ranger coffee, the three of us took off to see the southwestern portion of Yellowstone.  Today would only be a 40 mile day with a little hiking, and we’d be riding unloaded.

We took a bike trail to see Ojo Caliente.  No one was really out there because all the older visitors don’t want to get out of their cars.

Closer shot of Ojo Caliente.

fairy falls

This was nearly a two mile hike to see a waterfall.  On the way out, Dylan and I joked about Jerry Springer and phrases that confused Europeans, such as ‘how ya doin’.  I challenged him to ask other hikers ‘how ya doin’, but he was intimidated and hated the sound of it.  I just told him to throw a cowboy accent on it, like he saw in the movies, and he would have it down.  Clementine just laughed at how stupid it sounded and avoided sounding like an idiot.  Every time we passed someone, I greeted them with a different ‘American’ salutation:  howdy, ’how ya doin’, and ‘hello there’.  Really cheesy and really shitty sounding.  I loved it because Dylan and Clementine hated it.  They probably wanted a bear to eat me.  Brian, my annoying persona, had made a come-back.

Fairy Falls was a nice little remote waterfall.  It was only about a 50 foot falls, but the water was pristine.  Out of sheer excitement, we kept changing Jerry Springer phrases, such as ‘you are gay, you are gay’ and ‘you suck, you suck’.

grand prismatic spring

The bike trail took us to the back of Grand Prismatic Spring, a huge, colorful spring that was littered with people.  Luckily, no one was out on the bike path.  To get a better view, we hiked up a hill.  It was definitely worth it.

old faithful

Going to Yellowstone, I had to see Old Faithful.  I wasn’t that excited about it because I knew there would be thousands of people out there.  And there were.

It went off every hour and a half.  Dylan, Clementine, and I went and browsed the $50 sweatshirts and $10 coffee mugs that feature American names like Bob, Jason, and Ricky.  I begged Clementine to buy me one.

Soon enough, the geyser exploded and I got my pictures. Ohhhhhh.

Ahhhhh.

lone star geyser

Jack, my pal from Teton Village, had told me that if I wanted my own private geyser, I would have to go out to Lone Star Geyser.  After seeing the people-plagued Old Faithful, I was excited to go out to see this one.  The bike path was 2.6 miles, and the lot was void of any of cars.  We would be the only three people out there.

We got to the geyser site and learned that the geyser goes off every 3 hours.  There was a log book that informed us that the geyser had blown about 30 minutes ago.  That would put us at an 8:30 PM show, giving us only 30 minutes of light to get back to camp.  We decided to stay.

Dylan and Clementine gave me some French lessons while we waited under a tree in the rain.  Evidently my French was really poor and it was destroying their eardrums.  Sorry guys.

After a few hours of bad harmonica and even worse French, the geyser blew her top.  I would have to say that Lone Star was much more impressive than Old Faithful.  The eruption went on for about 15 minutes, and it later turned into a massive storm of steam.  Meanwhile, the rain turned to snow.  Pretty impressive.

Stupid tourist.

Hot guy in steam.

stranded at old faithful

We started back towards camp on the bike path in pretty good spirits.  Well, this changed quickly when it started snowing hard.  The air got cold very quickly as the sun went down, and my hands started going numb.  I wasn’t prepared for this, and Clementine gave me a pair of socks to place over my hands.

We were only able to get a few miles before it became too difficult to cycle.  The snow was coming down hard, and it was incredibly cold.  We decided to pull into the Old Faithful Lodge and beg for a ride.  We tried approaching people in trucks and vans, but they drove on by.  Dylan was really bothered by this.  I didn’t care.  I just wanted to get out of the cold.

We parked our bikes and went into the lodge.  Dylan sweet talked the front desk employee, and she said she’d talk to security.  We kept our fingers crossed while we walked to a fireplace in the lodge.  We met a few rich folks in the lodge, and I tried to put together a good sob story.  No one bit my sob story bait, but a lot of people were interested in our pathetic situation.  This young girl by the name of Helen took a sincere interest in me and my phone number.  She said, “Does your phone work?”  Helen wanted my phone number, I think.  Maybe not.  Maybe she just wanted to talk about phone service.  It was a really weird situation because:  1) She was 15, 2) Her grandmother was standing next to her, and 3) Dylan and Clementine were next to me smiling.  She was ‘wow’d’ by our trip and said, “I should do something like that,” pointing at her stomach.  I said, “Well, you can go on hikes.  You have the ability to do that here.”  No compliments from me.  Should I have said, “No no, you look great!”  That would have been odd coming from an older guy.  Clementine later commented that it was pretty funny that I told the girl to just go hiking and cycling.  She also made fun of my awkward situation.  Helen was nice, and I enjoyed talking to her.  She was one of the few in the room really interested in our trip.  Thanks Helen.

Half an hour later, a security employee named Zack walked up to us and said he’d be glad to give us a ride.  Our hero.  We were considering sleeping in the lobby next to the fire and riding back in the morning.  We were pumped to get a ride back.  I talked Zack’s head off during the car ride.

The ride back was long and slow.  There would have been no way we could have cycled back.  Dark, cold, wet, and snowy.  Clementine cooked up some spaghetti, and we crawled into our cold tents.  Dylan and Clementine’s love kept them warm.  My solitude kept me cold and ugly.

Yellowstone National Park – Day 2

babysitting Aden

I climbed out of my tent around 8:30 AM to loud RV generators and children yelling.  Ugh.  I ate breakfast and packed up.  Meanwhile, two older folks and their grandchild rolled up in an RV to the adjacent campsite.  Their grandson, Aden, took immediate interest in me and my bicycle.  He came over and I spent about 30 minutes with him putzing around the campsite.

In this picture, we were collecting earthworms and talking about the little worm family.  I told him they like spending time together.  I personified the worms because he kept trying to take them to his tent, where they’d inevitably meet their doom.  He told me he would punch a bison if he saw one, but I told him they were nice and scared of him.  Poor little bison.

His grandmother commented on my ability to connect with her grandchild and told me I’d be a great father.  It made me want to have a ‘pokeball’ device that I could throw down and out popped a child.  Whenever the child would get hungry or want me to buy it something, I would banish him back to his pokeball.  Maybe I wouldn’t make a great father.

mud volcano

I rode out to Mud Volcano.  On the way, I saw a few bison chilling by the road.  The rangers told me that they are 3,000 lbs and can run up to 30 mph.  They are very unpredictable animals and often gore people.

I arrived at Mud Volcano.  The features were really muddy and smelly.

Stinky Churning Caldron.

I did the robot dance at Mud Geyser.

And I posed at Black Dragon’s Caldron.

I left Mud Volcano and passed Sulphur Caldron.  Apparently the waters are 10x more acidic then lemon juice.  I think.  I wanted to leave pretty quickly because 8 French people crowded around my bike and were taking pictures.  They saw my Swiss socks and probably thought I spoke French.  To clear things up, I said, “How ya doin’?”  I’ve learned that Europeans have no clue how to respond to that.

After Sulphur Caldron, I passed Hayden Valley.  Bison were everywhere, and if I was going to see a grizzly, this would have been the location.  Unfortunately, I just saw bison.

shirtless guy at lower falls

I finally got to the Upper/Lower Falls area…the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone.  I was super excited to see Lower Falls from ‘Artist Point’.  The view was incredible.  I asked an old lady to take my picture.  It took her about 20 times to get the right shot.  I felt terrible for having to ask her to redo it over and over…and over.  She wouldn’t even get the Lower Falls in shot.  A French couple sat on the side watching it unfold before their eyes.  They were just laughing it up.

 

Scott, my dear friend from Cartoon Network, had given me a message to put on my bike board.  As soon as he sent it to me, I said ’shit’ out loud.  I didn’t know where to ride with it.  Definitely not Wyoming.  The message was ‘I miss my stalker’.  Scott also nicely requested that I be shirtless in the picture.  OK.  Only because I like you Scott.   

At Artist Point, there were literally hundreds of people.  How was I going to do this?  Where was I going to do this?  I was already trying to avoid talking to people about the message on the board.  Aggggh.  I couldn’t even hike off from Artist Point to get a good shot of the falls.  I looked around and saw that there was some hiking to the northeast of the falls.  There was another point called ‘Sublime Point’.  It was only a few miles to hike it, and ‘Sublime Point’ had to be sublime.  Otherwise, Yellowstone lies to people.

I started my hike.  Awesome.  No one was walking.  It would delay getting to the next campsite by an hour, but I figured it would be worth it.  I finally got to Sublime Point which overlooked the huge canyon and river.  Pretty awesome.  I took off my shirt, did a little dance, and partied it up for Scott.

I pouted a little bit because Scott wasn’t there to dance with me.

And then lightning.  No!  And then came the pouring rain.  No!  No no no no no!  I was going to be soaking wet by the time I hiked back.  That was bad, but what was worse was that I was carrying a huge metal tripod.  On the highest point of the canyon.  Without a shirt on.  This was not a good situation.  I sat down for a minute trying to think of what to do.  What would Scott do?

I walked over to the ledge.  Should I just jump off?  Would Scott approve?  Should I place the sign perfectly into frame before I jump?

I finally decided to wait it out under a very tall tree.  Looking back, it was probably pretty stupid, but it was better than carrying the tripod.  The storm calmed for a minute, and I figured that was God telling me to hike back.  OK.  Will do.

I got back to the parking lot soaking wet.  The comments started rolling in pretty quickly from all the old visitors. 

I bet you weren’t expecting this…Huh?

A little wet?

That doesn’t look like fun.

This was the comment that really pissed me off:  “Seeing you on that bicycle makes me happy I’m in a truck.”  I quickly responded, “Seeing you in that truck makes me happy I’m on a bicycle.”  She was with her husband, but that didn’t stop me.  I was annoyed and angry.  She noticed the comment pissed me off and tried to back pedal.  “Well, I have kids in the car, so I guess you’re in a pretty good situation,” she said as she forced a laugh.  I didn’t say anything else and turned away. 

A guy walked up to go to the port-o-potty where I was standing.  I was trying to dry off under some sort of shelter, but it really wasn’t working.  Standing there, I knew I was going to get a comment about me being wet from him.  I was just waiting for it…

“I bet you didn’t predict this,” he said smiling.  I gritted my teeth.  He looked like a nice guy and probably didn’t mean harm.  “Yep,” I said.

hitching it

It was still pouring.  The guy came back out of the port-o-potty and struck up a conversation with me.  He was interested in what the hell I was doing on a bike out in the rain, so I gave him the story.  He told him I was trying to get to Madison but wasn’t sure if I was going to make it.

“I think we’re headed that way.  You could throw your gear in the truck and we could drop you off,” he said.

My eyes lit up.  YES!  The negative raincloud dissipated, and I felt a huge rush of positive energy.  He helped me load up my bike, and I hopped into his truck.  His name was Kent, and his wife’s name was Susan. 

For the next 20 minutes, I talked their ears off.  They were probably ready to dump me off at the campsite.  Actually, they were very nice, and we spoke a lot about their home and family.  Before dropping me off at the Madison campground, they gave me trail mix, twizzlers, and a bag of Doritos.  Susan and Kent made my day.  Otherwise, I would have been pedaling in the cold, pouring rain for 2 hours.

the floridian, the brit, and the swiss

I got to Madison around 4 PM.  I was super happy I had time to set up my camp and fix up a nice meal.  Well…as nice as it gets for me.  Mac and Cheese.  I walked to the hiker/biker area, which happens to be behind the ranger station, and to my surprise there was a huge tarp set up over a few tables.  It made out to be a great shelter from the rain.

A park employee from Florida walked up to me, and we started talking.  He had set up the area in order for bikers/hikers to keep dry, and he told me I could pitch my tent under the tarp.  Superb.  Lenny was a cyclist from Florida that works at the park in the spring and summer.  He offered me a cup of coffee from inside the ranger station and told me to give a knock if I ever needed anymore.   The emloyees evidently offer coffee and tea to all hikers and bikers. 

A tall lean chap came walking up to me out of the brush.  Where the hell did this guy come from?  I looked around and saw his touring bike along with his camo tarp and bivy sack.  Bill was doing a cross country trip and only had a 90-day visa.  He was only in Yellowstone and was approaching 2 months.  He was taking his time and seeing stuff, which is what the tour is about.  We spoke for a while about his home and his touring setup.  Lenny, Bill, and I sat under the cover of the tarp and spoke for about 3 hours before Bill decided to turn in for the night.  Bill would wake up at 6 AM and go to bed at 8 PM.  

Around 8 PM, a couple cycled up to the station to pay for their camping.  I was pleased to see that it was Dylan and Clementine, the Swiss couple I had met the day before.  I spoke to them for a while, and we agreed that we’d cycle the southwestern portion of the park the next day, leaving our panniers at the camp.  I was pumped and excited to cycle with other tourers.

Yellowstone National Park – Day 1

4 AM…uh, no

I had set my alarm for 4 AM, and so it went off.  I looked outside my tent.  Completely dark and completely silent.  No thanks.  Wildlife will have to wait.  I went back to sleep only to rise at 8 AM.  Good enough for me. I packed up and made my way to Yellowstone National Park.

Cycling out of camp, I passed a couple from Switzerland touring the United States.  Dylan and Clementine.  I loved their setup.  I envied their trailers, and they envied my panniers.  I envied their love.

I was pretty excited to get to the park, but the ride there was going to be uphill until I saw anything cool.  On the way, I rode along Jackson Lake.  I had an incredible view of the Tetons just to my left.

traffic, muffins, and zombies

I started up a pretty long hill and came to an unexpected traffic jam.  Good enough.  I’ll ride through it and laugh at all the crying motorists.

Wrong.  I couldn’t pass through the construction zone due to heavy machinery.  Rich, the guy directing traffic, offered me some muffins.  Chocolate and banana nutbread muffins.  “Have ‘em all,” he said.  I hesitated at first, but after I saw one that he had thrown on the ground to feed a chipmunk, I devoured four big muffins.

The sign of the day was brought to you by Heather Hazen of Popcap.  The message was to promote a really popular zombie game Popcap had recently developed.  I figured it would lead to some pretty awkward conversation later that day.  I got some pretty odd looks from people sitting in traffic.  Whatever.  Rich yelled to me, “The zombies are already here!”

I had to get trucked past all the construction by a pilot car.  Unfortunately, it was only half a mile, and I lost about 45 minutes of the day.  I cycled quickly to Yellowstone.

I got to the entrance and hit it hard with the pictures, hiding and kicking at zombies.  People didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but the foreigners really enjoyed watching me.  A few asian children really took interest in my bike, so I spent about 5 minutes talking to them.  Their parents really liked the fact that I was entertaining them, so they took a few pictures of them with me.  Stupid me forgot to ask them to use my camera too.  They took off, and a minute later, I noticed they left their really expensive tripod.  I sprinted about 100 yards to catch their RV, which was stuck in traffic.  They were incredibly grateful.  I was incredibly tired.

south entrance

I got some incredible views of area coming in through the south entrance of the park.

Here’s the canyon carved out by the Lewis River.

And here’s pretty little me smiling by Moose Falls.

I hung myself off a 20 foot bridge to get a funny picture with Lewis Falls in the background.  Probably not the smartest thing to do.  I was hiding from the zombies.  And I was falling for the falls.  Bahahahaha.

I made my way north going along the Lewis River until I got to Lewis Lake.  Big portions of the lake were still frozen, so I stopped by to ponder my solitude.  I cried for a little bit and moved on to West Thumb Geyser Basin.

craven shit

While cycling to West Thumb, I was really taking in the scenery.  A raven was flying along with me by the road, zig-zagging back and forth.  Ravens are brilliant birds.  They have the ability to open zippers on your backpack to get food or work in teams to open bear boxes.  Those are damn hard to open, and I can’t imagine opening them with a crappy little beak.  I later heard that they pick up rocks and throw them at campers until they scare them off.

Looking to the sky, I was admiring this craven that was traveling with me.  He flew over me and matched my speed.  Cool.  I was connecting with the wildlife.  Suddenly, a big chunk of white crap exited his butt and dropped towards me.  He was about 8 feet off from hitting me right on the head.  Damn.  These ravens were malicious.

stupid mean fat ‘artist lady’ at West Thumb

West Thumb is a smaller ‘thumb’ lake of the bigger Yellowstone Lake.  The western tip sits along the caldera boundary, which is home to the West Thumb Geyser Basin.  This geyser basin was so cool because the eastern landscape was a huge body of water.  There was an elk chilling in the middle of the basin.  At one time, it charged in front of a few people, towering above a few small children.

I eagerly hopped off my bike and started my way along the boardwalk to the basin.  At the time, it was raining nicely.  Suddenly, I hear this woman holler out at me, “Are you leaving your bike?”

Uh.  Of course I am.  No lady.  I’m going to sit on this fence all day long alone with my bicycle.  Evidently, she was drawing what was behind my bicycle, and the bicycle was obstructing her view.  I figured she was just some lazy, fat, annoying wife who didn’t want to get dragged out of the car in the rain to see the geyser basin with her husband.  She wanted something ‘cool’ to do to prove to her husband she was having a good time with nature.  That was my fantasy I conjured up anyways.  Then she said,  “I’ve been drawing around you, so if you’re leaving your bicycle, move it.”  I didn’t feel like arguing with her, so I just shook my head and laughed.  I moved my bike three feet and walked away.

I looked back at what she was drawing.  I expected it to be something cool.  No.  Nothing was cool about it.  It was just a tree.  To her left, she had a ton of great geothermal features, but here she was drawing a tree.  Lady, you could have sat your ass at home and drawn a tree from the comforts of your motorized fat person wheelchair.  You can probably tell that this really pissed me off.

west thumb geyser basin

I really enjoyed this geyser basin.  The hot, steaming water was pouring into the lake after being pushed out of the ground.

Getting shots with Heather’s message was going to be tough, but I stuck it out.  People kept asking me what the sign was about, and I just said, “The zombies are coming.”  One guy walked by me, turned around, and stared at me for about 10 seconds.  Other old people looked at me like I was some ‘end of the world’ freak show.

bridge bay and the attack of the rv’s

I pulled up to Bridge Bay in the pouring, cold rain.  I grabbed a hiker/biker campsite and set up camp.  It was already getting pretty cold, and I fantasized about one of the hundreds of RV owners in the park to offering to join them by their camp fire.  Firewood was $8, and I couldn’t justify making a fire for that much.

There was a fat young couple who were right next to my campsite.  I tried being friendly with them, and they shrugged me off like some new age hippie.  I could hear their conversation the entire evening.  They argued about what they were going to eat that night.  Chicken tenders or hot pockets.

There I was, eating apples, peanut butter bagels, and instant potatoes.  I hated them.  It was cold, and they had fire, chicken tenders, and hot pockets.  The husband kept ordering the wife around to get him things from the RV.  I was pretty annoyed that I had to be camping beside these people.

As soon as the sun went down, I crawled into my smelly, damp tent and went to sleep.

Grand Teton National Park

freebie morning

Jack and I headed to get some coffee before I took off for the Tetons.  I wanted to prolong my time with Jack as much as possible.  He was fun to be around and a great guy.  He told me about a coffee shop that morning offering free coffee and bagels to cyclists.  Off I went.

More coffee and three free bagels were had.  The town of Jackson has a government-funded operation that promotes bicycling in Jackson.  Pretty cool to have monies from the government for bicycling.  I killed an hour talking to the folks manning the operation there before heading off to the park.

The ride to the park was about 30 miles and went along a scenic highway.  It was a nice morning.  Clear skies and sunshine.  It would be the last blue sky I would see for the next four days unfortunately.  I stopped at the ‘Welcome’ sign and became a stupid tourist.

I couldn’t think of a witty, funny message for Kim.  She wanted something supportive for those in their fight against cancer, since she was a cancer warrior herself.  ’Fight the Good Fight’.  Most of the old people going into the park really liked it and gave me a thumbs-up.

Eventually I entered the park…for free.  The guy at the entrance station let me go on in.  I guess he pitied me so much he wanted me to spend my $12 on peanut butter.

old rich people with mean comments

With a little hesitation, I went into the visitor’s center near the park entrance.  I had seen the buses emptying hundreds of people into the parking lot and wasn’t sure if I wanted to be shoulder-to-shoulder with someone staring at stuffed bears and photographs.

Sure enough, there were a ton of people there.  I looked at a few uninteresting ‘fun facts’ and left.  I sat down outside next to my bike and ate the three free bagels I had gotten earlier.  The hundreds of rich, old people started pouring back into the buses.  As they passed, a few commented on my load.  It really annoyed me.  Mean people.  This is the one that pissed me off the most:

You either need more bike or less stuff. – Rich, old guy with a mustache

I am saying these people were rich because that makes me feel better about disliking them.  If they were poor, I wouldn’t mind too much.  They’re poor.  I’m poor.  I’m ugly.  No harm done.  This one guy really pissed me off.  I told him, “No, I’m doing just fine thanks,” not even making eye contact.  I packed up my stuff and got out of there.

I headed on a bike path up toward Grand Teton, the king mountain of the park.  A cloud was covering the peak, hovering there for hours as if it were the mountain’s crown.  Just next to it was Mount Teewinot.  I took a few stupid pictures on a dirt road and headed towards Colter Bay, my end destination of the day.

colter bay

I remembered Jack telling me that the Tetons in French meant ‘tits’.  To the early explorers, the mountains looked like a bunch of boobies.  Thus, the range was given the name Tetons.  Hmm.  I decided to incorporate this into my sign and wipe away the message from earlier.  I was so happy that I did a few handstands on the rocky, pine covered beach of Jackson Lake.  Feel those Tetons, ladies.  Examine them.

I went to a cool Indian arts museum in Colter Bay Village.  I wanted the necklace made out of grizzly claws, proving an Indian warrior’s courage and skill as a hunter.

quiet camp

The hiker/biker camp at Colter Bay was set away from all the other sites, and I had the whole place to myself.  I ate dinner (instant potatoes) in silence.

I prepared everything for an early morning departure for 4 AM.  I wanted to get up early and see some wildlife, and the best times to glimpse animals were in the early morning and later in the evening.

Jackson, WY: Adventures in Hitchhiking and World’s Worst Police Chases 6

operation hitchhike

Jack’s friend Paul invited Clement and I to dinner.  The only problem was Clement and I had to find a way from the southern portion of Jackson to Teton Village.  22 miles.  I was going to cycle the distance, but that would leave Clement hanging solo hitchhiking.  I figured hitchhiking with him would be an adventure in and of itself anyways.  And it was.

We successfully hitchiked to Teton Village in about an hour.  There were multiple turns along the way, so that meant hitching with four different people.  I was pretty happy with our luck.  It was raining too, and I think people felt really sad for us two pathetic hitchers.

Here’s a shot of an ugly, wet cyclist trying to make drivers aware that he’s a really nice guy.  “Hi there!  I won’t kidnap you!”

And here’s Clement being French and trying to romanticize the drivers.  “Hello ladies!  Want to french kiss with ze french fries in ze mouth?  Yes?”  In all fairness, we probably got rides because Clement was better looking.  Look at that cool scarf.

Eating at Teton Village was the easy part.  Hamburgers and brotwursts were had.  We also had some other treats.  YO JACK AND CLEMENT…YOU GOT BROWNED!

After dinner, Jack was able to drop us back off in Jackson.  That left us about 12 miles to hitchhike.  This is where the fun started.

world’s shittiest police chases:  jackson

Clement and I had been warned by Jack that hitchhiking was illegal in the state of Wyoming.  Clement had already been warned by a cop days earlier.  Oh well.  This was a new day, and Clement was with me.  I am Lady Luck in ugly bicyclist form.

We hopped out of Jack’s car and headed for the nearest intersection.  We set up our post about 50 feet past the light so we could target vehicles with waving and smiles, giving them time to pull over. 

I remember that the cops in Jackson were in white SUVs, and there was a white SUV coming right by us.  “This is probably a cop,” I said to Clement, half jokingly.  I continued to stick out my thumb and wave.  The driver had already seen us anyways, so I’ll keep on keeping on.  The white SUV continued towards us, and I was anxious to see if the word ‘POLICE’ was written on the side of the door.  

It was.  Shit.  I laughed and continued to wave at the cop.  “Oh shit,” Clement said.  He sped down the road 100 yards and put his left blinker on.  NO!!!!  I didn’t want a $50 ticket.  “Clement, let’s duck into the grocery store across the street and get off the road,” I said as I crossed the road peeing myself.  Clement was busy hiding behind a metal pole.  Damnit…quit playing around Clement. 

I don’t know what was going through my head.  Maybe I thought I was Jason Bourne trying to escape the CIA.  I think Jason Bourne at the age of 4 had better stealth tactics than I did.  I ended up being a pretty shitty Bourne because the cop saw us enter the grocery store.  I continued inside anyways.  Maybe I’d lose him in the magazine aisle…he’d never find us there.

We had almost made it to the magazine aisle when a loud voice boomed behind us.  “Gentlemen,” the voice stated.  I pretended not to hear it.  I knew it was the cop.  I just wanted to buy some time for some sort of explanation to develop in my head.  “Gentlemen,” the voice boomed again.  We turned around.  The hunt was over.  No escaping the police this time.  This was officially the shittiest police chase in Jackson history.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, gentlemen.  Let me see some IDs.” – Policeman

“Sure.” – Ryan

“You do realize hitchhiking is illegal in Wyoming, don’t you?” – Policeman

“What?  Really?  I guess as soon as we saw you we just wanted to clear the road and save you any trouble.” – Ryan

“Yeah, it’s illegal all over Wyoming.” - Policeman

“We were just trying to get 12 miles down the road before it got dark.  I’m cycling cross-country and not from around here.  We’re headed into the Tetons and Yellowstone tomorrow.” – Ryan

“Oh, you’re camping just south of here?” – Policeman

“Yeah, we’re staying close to Game Creek.” (I didn’t want to tell him we’re in a nice house…I wanted some sympathy) – Ryan

I continued to play the part of Georgia good ‘ole boy who is a tired, desperate cyclist.  I have found that using this persona is really effective in creating a good vibe with strangers.  I managed to get the cop to smile a bit.  He ran our IDs and let us go.  I asked him if he could give us a ride.  Negative.  He laughed though.

I left the grocery store feeling like a stupid teenager.  Where did I think we were going to hide?  We would have to be walking down the highway at some point in the evening.  We would have gotten busted even if we could have momentarily turned invisible.  I guess I just wanted to get off the road to avoid a fine.  It wasn’t like I was evading arrest.    

There was no way Clement and I would walk 12 miles and get back to the house before dark.  It was already 8:30 PM.  We walked a mile outside of the developed areas and pinpointed solo cars.  After 20 minutes, a nice guy named Allen gave us a ride the rest of the way.    

 

Dubois, WY to Teton Village, WY

another big day

The door to the barn faced eastward, allowing the sun to beat down on my face and wake me up.  It was 6:30 AM when I was packed up, so I headed to the public restrooms to clean up and eat breakfast. 

After eating some fruit and bagels, I made my way to ‘Coffee Haus’, the only coffee shop in Dubois.  After purchasing a cup of coffee, I sat down next to a group of locals talking about the grizzly they captured near one of the public access fishing areas.  One of them showed me its footprint.  6 inches wide.  Shit…

An older couple walked in and purchased some breakfast.  The only place to sit was a group of stools, so I offered the open seats at my table to them.  They were grateful, and after talking to them for a while, Al and Jacky insisted on buying me breakfast.  They were a very nice couple touring the country in their car.  Jacky said it was their last ‘hoorah’ before kicking the bucket.

togwotee pass

The wind was in my face again, but I was in a good mood after breakfast with Al and Jacky.  I also had an early start, so I just took it easy with the pace.  I didn’t want to push too hard and destroy my knees.  The morning’s ride would take me to Togwotee Pass, 35 miles northwest of Dubois.  I was a day’s ride from Yellowstone, which was pretty exciting.

Fun sign on the way up the pass.  Fitting regarding this morning’s bear conversation.

Jacky had told me to be sure to wear sunblock while pointing at my red nose.  Thanks Jacky.  You just inspired today’s message.  I pulled over to the side of the road and proceeded to write my new message:  World’s Worst Tan. 

At the top of the pass, I hopped off my bike and hiked up to the rock formation that I had been looking at for the past two hours.  I partied alone and shirtless in a field of snow. 

To the east was a frozen lake. 

And at the top of the pass were huge fields of snow.

warm welcome by the tetons

I descended from Togwotee Pass after hours of fighting the wind.  Unfortunately, I was descending into the wind too.  All that hard work for a slow descent.  When I got down to the valley, I was welcomed with a pretty incredible view of the Tetons.  The locals call this valley ‘God’s front yard’.  

As I made my way to Teton Village, I noticed a lot of tourists looking at bison from afar.  Being an adventurer, I led them on a safari in the open plains of the Tetons. 

Further down the road, I was held up by more bison.  I joined them for a party in the street.

It had been a 9 hour day of full cycling, and I was ready to get to Jack’s place.  Jack, a fellow touring cyclist, was also hosting a French traveler named Clement.  I was pumped to get to his place, take a shower, and meet a French guy.  I’ve heard French men are really good kissers.

Upon my arrival, Jack was eager to get me fed and nourished.  He made me a rice protein shake that gave my body the nutrients that my peanut butter lacked. 

Jack had toured a lot back in the 80s and shared some of his experiences with me.  Pretty cool.  Jack was a really fit, high-energy guy that actively ran, cycled, skied, and hiked.  He probably did gymnastics and breakdancing on the side too.  Damn.  I’m an unoriginal weeny on a weeny bike tour.

i lost a good friend

The next day I woke up to a text message from my mother letting me know Chance, my 14 year-old lab, passed away.  I took it pretty hard and felt really guilty for not being able to say goodbye.  When I spoke to my mom and heard that she was upset, I became even more upset.  I went to town later that day and just sat around. 

It was a pretty hard morning for me.  I missed Chance the day I left on this bike trip, and I really wanted to see him before he passed away.  I didn’t get to have that opportunity.  I love him a lot and really miss him.

jackson

I putzed around town for the remainder of the day and got some groceries.  When Jack and I got back to his place, we found Clement cooking up a storm.  French guys really know how to cook.

Lander, WY to Dubois, WY

everyone knows his name

Juan had a pile of waffles cooked up by the time I came inside.  I swallowed three and proceeded to load up my bicycle.  We then rode our bikes to the local coffee shop that morning before my big ride. 

On the ride to the coffee shop, Juan would wave to everyone and briefly speak to them.  Inside the shop, the same thing happened.  Everyone knew him.  I guess being one of the most unique people in town really makes you well known.  After all, he’s a very likable guy. 

wind river reservation, wind river ridge, wind river

After a few hours of riding, I found out why this place was called Wind River.  It was nothing but wind.  Wind in my face.  Wind in my eyes.  Wind in my hair.  I stopped for a short break and a dust devil formed right beside me.  The entire day would be spent ascending for 84 miles to Dubois with a lot of rolling hills in between.  It was going to be a long day.

The scenery of the Wind River Indian Reservation was gorgeous.  It was high desert with sharp hills and beautiful rock formations reminiscient of Utah geography.  To my west were the snow-capped mountains that would eventually lead into the Tetons and Yellowstone. 

That morning I had heard reports of our shitty economy.  Oh well.  I’m not worried.  After leaving Cartoon Network, I cashed out what was left of my minuscule 401k to help pay for some of my trip.  And my bike board message was born:  “Sponsored by what’s left of my 401k”.  Would these cowboy ranchers get the humor or think I’m some cityslicker cyclist with a million dollars?  We’ll see.

The wind got worse the later it got.  When pedaling down to the Wind River canyon area, I was standing up in first gear…going downhill.  It was bad, and I was tired.  My average speed for a few hours petered between 7 and 8 mph.  I was dreaming of someone stopping to talk to me and offering me a ride somewhere far away.  And then they’d feed me chocolate candies.  Well…what do you know.  Someone pulled over…

ruth and armageddon

A truck pulled over a hundred yards in front of me.  Will they offer me a shower?  Sone coke?  A place to sleep?  A job?  No, no, no, and no.

The driver was a female taking pictures of the landscape.  I stopped in front of her to ask if she was OK.  She read my sign and asked me what a 401k was.  I explained, and she laughed.  She was still confused.  “Are you staying out of debt?” she questioned.  Weird.  She then told me that she was in debt and that’s why she was on the road.  I guess she wanted to bond with me.  Perhaps she thought I was running away from debt on my bicycle, and we could run away together to hide out from the big banks.  

Ruth offered me some water and apples.  Then, she started bragging about how she could get free food anywhere, like churches.  She recommended I do the same thing.  I’m all about being thrifty but sapping selfless institutions as practice is a little too vampiric for me.

Conversation then got really weird really fast.  I started to say goodbye but then Ruth asked, “Do you believe it’s the end of the world?”  Huh?  “With all this stuff that’s happening to the economy, you know.  2012 and Revelations.”  Ugh.  OK…I have to get out of here.  “What is your religion?  Do you carry a Bible with you?  Do you want one?” she insisted. 

I told her that I quit following that stuff (end of world scenarios).  I’m living in the present and not going to worry about it.  “Yeah, me too,” she said, quickly agreeing with me.  Whatever.  You were just freaking out on me about Armageddon.  Ruth offered to give me a ride to Dubois, but I kindly declined.  I only had about 12 miles left, and I didn’t want to talk about the Mayan calendar anymore.

I finally broke away.  She kept talking as I cycled off.  I just laughed and nodded.  I joked and said, “Well, back into the wind!”  Then she said something really weird.  “May God be in the wind!”  Huh?  What does that mean?

I asked her if I could take a picture of her, but she didn’t want one.  She told me she wasn’t good with pictures.  Damnit. 

bertie and the barn

I rolled into Dubois not knowing what to do for a campsite.  John, the cyclist I had run into in Lander, had told me of a realtor that offered his property to camp on.  I cycled around town trying to find the realtor, but all the offices were closed.  It was around 6:30 PM, so things were pretty quiet around town. 

I really wanted a Coke and a candy bar, so I looked down the street.  Two gas stations.  There was a female worker at the smaller gas station.  Maybe I could drum up conversation and see if she could propose a place for me to pitch a tent.  Hell…maybe I could play the part of Georgia good ‘ole boy and charm my way into her backyard.  Let’s see what I can do…

I walked into the gas station with a big smile on my face.  A lot of positive energy.  I introduced myself and explained my situation as I purchased a Butterfinger and fountain drink.  She mentioned going to the police station and asking them.  After another minute of speaking to Bertie, she said, “If you don’t find a place, you can camp in my backyard.  Come back here around 8 PM.  I live about 3 blocks away.”  Badass. 

I took off to the library and then cooked up some instant potatoes at the public restrooms in town.  I was pumped to have a place to stay.

Come 8 PM, I followed Bertie back to her house.  She said I had two options:  the swing or the barn.  I happily told her that the barn would be phenomenal.  She said ‘OK’ and went into the house.  I didn’t see her again.

I didn’t want to break out the tent, so I just rolled out the sleeping bag.  If it rained, I had cover from the rain.  I had a great experience later that night because I wasn’t in the tent.  In the middle of the night in the freezing cold, I heard a noise just outside the barn.  I figured it might be a rat.  Hell…I don’t know.  I have never slept in a barn.  I looked outside and saw a huge elk standing there staring right back at me.  It was a good 15-20 seconds that she stood there before leaping over the fence.  Her fawn followed just behind her making a lot of noise.  Pretty awesome experience.

Rawlins, WY to Lander, WY

ugly wet cyclist

Noelle and Andy were able to drop me off at Muddy Gap on their way to Casper.  This took off a few of the miles, but I’d still have a huge day to Lander, WY.  On the way to drop me off, Andy commented on the huge storm system to the northwest.  Shit.  It was nothing but dark gray.

I said goodbye to Andy and Noelle.  They were really good to me, and I had a great time in Rawlins that I didn’t expect to happen.  Fantastic people.  And on I went into the storm.  The first few minutes were fine.  I felt great.

And then it went from great to shitty.  I could feel the cold front come in, and it started to pour.  15 minutes into riding, I couldn’t feel my hands or feet.  I stopped at Split Rock to dry off and get some shelter.  I also changed my bike board message to ‘Ugly Wet Cyclist’.  That’s what I felt like.

The rain continued for the next 20-something miles.  Everything was numb.  I wanted to push hard to Jeffrey City, a ghost town that went from 50,000 to 50.  It used to be a huge uranium mining town in the 70s.  All that was left was a diner.

ugly wet cyclist amongst old ranchers

I propped my bike on the outside diner wall and went for the door.  I looked inside before I did and saw an old guy with a beard staring at me.  Shit.  This is going to be like the movie Roadhouse, except Patrick Swayze won’t be there to save my ass.  I really didn’t know what to expect.

It felt like a scene out of a movie.  The five or six locals inside all turned their heads in synchronicity and stared at me.  Imagine Pee Wee in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure when he goes into the biker bar.  It was that, but I was on a stupid bicycle.

I took off my 3 layers of wet clothing and sat down.  Shit.  It’s all dripping onto the floor.  Are they going to be pissed?  The female bartender just laughs and said, “Great day to be riding, huh?”  OK…maybe it won’t be too bad.  She gives me some coffee and says that she’ll go to the back and cook me up a burger and fries.  Cool.  I didn’t even have to look at a menu.

A few more locals slowly leak into the diner.  Everyone knew each other’s nickname.  The town literally had 50 people living there, and about 20% of its population was at the diner.  A few people took interest in me and my trip, so they walked over and spoke to me.  I think a few of them just sat there and enjoyed my misery.  The diner didn’t have heat, so I was freezing cold dripping dry.

An old guy by the name of Joe came in.  Here’s how the awkward conversation went:

Is that your bike? – Joe

Yes sir. – Ryan

Don’t call me sir. – Joe

OK…sir.  I mean…what is your name? – Ryan

Joe. – Joe

OK. Nice to meet you. – Ryan

The owner isn’t going to like your bike on the window. – Joe

My bike isn’t on the window.  The bags are propped on the wood. – Ryan

The mirror is touching the window. – Joe

OK. – Ryan

I didn’t know what to think.  For the rest of the hour, he just sat there at the same table.  Not a very nice man.

The locals at the bar played a game for $.50 with the bartender.  6 dice were in a cup, and they’d roll it on a table.  If they got 4 pair, they’d get a free drink.  5 pair they’d win the pot…which probably equaled hundreds of dollars since the game was retardedly in the house’s favor.  Joe went on to tell me I couldn’t win the pot since I was not a local.  Thanks Joe.

no rain but a strong headwind

The rain broke and I made my getaway from Jeffrey City.  As I cycled away, all the locals chased me with pitchforks.  “Get back here you ugly wet cyclist!!!”

The rest of the ride was a long one.  The wind was going against me, but I guess it was a tradeoff for no rain, which was off the highway to the south.  I made my way to the Wind River area.  The terrain was comprised of strong, granite peaks that had been eroded by the weather.  It was gorgeous, but I couldn’t take it all in because I’d be hitting Lander just before dark.  No time for nature.

I did have time for a dance party though.

juan and john

I pulled into Lander around 8 PM.  Today had been a long day, and I was ready to collapse.  Lander is a cute town in Wyoming, but it’s still Wyoming.  Trucks, ranchers, and trucks.  There was a streak going into Lander where I got 5 cars in a row that either honked, flashed their lights, and gave me thumbs-up.  That was great.  A lot of the truckers loved my sign.  I could see them laugh when they weren’t going 90 mph past me.  I think they only reason they laughed was because I beat them to punch making fun of me.

I rolled my bike into Juan’s place.  Whoah.  Lots of shit everywhere.  Old cars and tools littered the yard.  I knocked on the door not knowing what to expect.  Whoah.  His house was littered with photos, old collectibles, and framing equipment for his photography.  There wasn’t a spot to set down my bag and jacket.  I was simply overwhelmed by the amount of stuff.  This should be interesting.

Juan had made dinner.  This was no ordinary dinner.  All the produce he used was food he pulled out of a dumpster.  Sweet.  I didn’t feel too bad gorging myself, and he was really giving with the food.  I was still hungry, so I devoured the candy bars Trish Lal had sent to Juan’s place.  What a nice friend =)

There was another touring cyclist named John there as well.  John had started his tour in Portland and was making his way to Kentucky.  He was on a budget.  A $180 budget.  He told me he hadn’t paid to camp anywhere.  Cool…I guess.  He said he got to Yellowstone and didn’t want to pay to enter, so he just cycled around.  A $12 savings for a potentially awesome experience cycling Yellowstone.  Come on dude.  Are you serious?  A few of the hike and bike places in Yellowstone are only $4 to camp in, too.  That initially turned me off, but upon talking to John, I found out that he’s a really warm, kind person.  And he’s a genius with his bike rig.  Check out what he came up with for his panniers.

We spent the rest of the evening talking about Juan’s plumbing experiences in Antarctica.  Evidently he had spent a number of years down there supporting the research teams.  Crazy stories.  This guy was probably one of the most interesting people I’ve bumped into on the trip.  He owned more land in Idaho, which also happened to house a shitload of old clunker cars.  He told me he had dreams of starting a bike shop outside of his house.  That’s why he had all these tools.  He also wanted to build lots of cabins on his back property to house travelers coming through the area.  By the sound of things, he had a lot to do.   

He asked me if I wanted to sleep on the floor.  I kindly declined and told him I’d be happy camping in his backyard.  Even if I wanted to roll my sleeping bag on the floor, there wouldn’t have been enough room.  The house was filled with oddball collections:  animal skulls, framing equipment, old stickers, license plates, and maps.  As I walked out the back door, I had to watching my footing because I thought I’d stumble down the stairs and snap my neck. 

I went outside to set up camp.  I was looking forward to sleeping in the next day.  I wanted to spend some time in Lander and slow down the trip before I hit Yellowstone.

dumpster dishes in lander

I cycled the town, hit up the library, and got sick at Pizza Hut.  Lunch buffet for $6.99.  I wanted to load up on carbs, and I did.  I felt disgusting.  My stomach was full of Pepsi and pizza dough.

Later on that evening, Juan and I hit up a few places to dumpster dive.  The local grocery store was a success.  Lots of fresh produce and portobello mushrooms.  We then headed to the thrift store, Juan’s favorite place.  After a few minutes of going through the dumpster, I realized why Juan had so much shit in his house.  Everything that he pulled out had a potential use, such as an old bicycle or piece of rope.  Things that didn’t have an evident use were a good thing to collect, such as an old Boggle game or hard to come-by VHS.   

Juan cooked up some elk burgers and prepared salad later that night, none of which was purchased at a grocery store.  The elk meat had come from his hunter friends, and the salad and fixings had come from the dumpster.  A very good dumpster dish.

Walden, CO to Rawlins, WY

ready to leave

I woke up around 6:30 AM to Shane and his friend Josh working on the four-wheelers.  I started packing up, and after 30 minutes, Shane jokingly said, “Jeez, I thought Ryan was going to make us breakfast.”  Weird.  Was that a hint for me to fire up his grill and cook food?  I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just sat there and laughed nervously.  It wasn’t funny.

Shane had a bossy streak in him.  “Get that.  Do this.”  I first saw it when he was telling EC to let me use his laptop.  It continued, and it eventually came to me.  I had dug a deep fire pit to protect the fire against the wind, and he questioned the design.  “I think that’s too deep.  You should make it wider.”  He took the shovel from me and adjusted it.  It really turned me off and put a damper on my mood.  I was ready to leave the previous evening when that happened.

I cooked up sausage and egg beaters.  I should have just eaten my bagels and bananas.  I could feel my stomach getting pissed at me for eating crap.  A few minutes later, EC woke up and once again began squabbling with Shane.  Shane and Josh were planning on riding some trails, and EC felt left out.  Ugh.  Stupid squabbling.  I felt awkward just watching them argue.  So did Josh.

I wasn’t able to push my bike out of the forest due to all the loose sand, so Shane drove me back out to the highway.  During the short ride, I enjoyed a conversation about his present relationship with his girlfriend.  Those were the conversations I wanted to have with him…not ones about a $5,000 sound system.

I said goodbye to Shane and let him know how touching it was that he pulled over to ask me if I needed help.  It wasn’t a lie.  It really was touching.  I was grateful that this trip brought me such an experience, however unique it was.

onward to wyoming

The day’s ride would take me to the town of Saratoga, WY.  I’d stay on a stretch of highway for about 60 miles.  After cresting one of large hills, I saw a landscape that I had in my head of Wyoming.  Sage grass covered the terrain, and the sun broke through the rain clouds into the high desert.  It was beautiful, but I wasn’t looking forward to riding through the rain.

The storm seemed to be blowing nothward, and I was following a hole in the clouds just above me.  Very lucky.  Most of the ride was rolling hills, which was very different from Colorado.  The highway I was cycling seemed remote.  A car would pass by every 20 minutes.

60 miles later, I rolled into the town of Saratoga.  I noticed a National Forest building off to my right, and I slowed down to pull into the parking lot.  I wanted to figure out where public land was located so I could primitive camp.  Suddenly, a woman in a truck truck yells at me.  The truck had passed me a couple hundred feet back and did a U-turn in the parking lot.  She wanted a picture of my sign that read “I miss my shower.”

lucky me

Her name was Noelle.  She worked for the Bureau of Land Management up in Rawlins, WY, the next big town on my route.  I started talking to her about places to camp in town and asked if she had any maps.  We spoke for about 5 minutes, and I asked her where she was headed.  “Rawlins,” she said.  “Want a ride?”  OK…I’ll go with it.  She said I could camp in her yard.  I was pumped because I had a sure-fire place to camp.

After getting to her house, she offered me a shower.  Damn…awesome!!!  After being in the sand dunes for two days, I was caked with dirt.  It was in my ears, nostrils, and fingernails.  I felt disgusting.  And then she offered for me to do a load of laundry.  And then she offered to drive me to the grocery store.  I was blown away.  Noelle was awesome.  I would have never expected this to happen.  At best, I was hoping for a public shower at the hot springs in Saratoga, WY.

Her husband Andy got home from work.  He worked as an officer for Animal Control.  Shit.  I hope he’s cool with me camping at their place.  And he was.

We went to the grocery store, and Noelle told me that she was grilling that night.  “Don’t worry about food,” she said.  What?  Are you serious?  When does it end?  When I got back, Andy offered me a bed to sleep on downstairs in the basement.  These guys were great.

I tried to contribute and show my gratitude by washing dishes in the kitchen.  I also baked up a batch of brownies.  Yo Andy and Noelle, you got browned!

Here’s Andy feeding a baby bird that he didn’t have the heart to kill on the job.

day in rawlins

The next morning, I got up early to prepare for a long ride.  It was going to be a 90 mile day in the wind and rain, something I was not looking forward to.  After Andy left for work, Noelle told me that they were going to Casper the next day, and they’d be happy to drop me off at Muddy Gap.  I looked outside.  OK.  That would be awesome.

I spent most of the day helping Noelle clean the house.  She was preparing to have family over for the next weekend.  I also cut the grass.  Although it was 3-4 hours of chores, I really enjoyed helping out.  I wanted to work off some of my karma debt and pay it forward to show my gratitude.