The Parkes and Stockham Cycle Part 2: TransAmerica

Date: Wednesday 25th August 

Route: Dubois, Wyoming – Lander, Wyoming

Distance: 76 miles

Total climb: 1867 ft

Net climb: -1489 ft

We left Dubois a little late, this time due to some work needed on inner tube pressures. However, it offered a good opportunity to visit the giant jackalope and take in Dubois by day. As we rolled out of town, a gentleman started playing the piano on the street, outside a saloon. This provided further confirmation of the importance of tourism and wild west-themed attractions to such a remote outpost.

The road ran through the Wind River Indian Reservation, past changing rock formations and hot scrubland. For most of the day, we were bombarded by crickets and grasshoppers (I think), jumping up from the road at us.  The front panniers have been useful and humane guards against mass leaping of these creatures, but really come into their own as a form of public transport.

I was amused for 9 miles by one cricket hitching a lift with Jay, wandering from pannier to pannier.  At one point, I thought it might eat the route map, before it alighted and vanished. Having not seen many cyclists going in the opposite direction, I’m unsure how it planned to return home.

On the theme of cricket, it is fair to say that a number of cracks had appeared in the track, which may have been excellent for spinners but proved painful for our bikes and bodies.  Boycott could have lost a set of jailer’s keys in a square foot of hard shoulder.

We stopped for a short break in Crowheart, sourcing provisions for a run in to Fort Washakie – the burial location for Sacajawea and former home to Chief Washakie of the Shoshoni. Stocking up for a second time from the only open gas station, we prepared for the final stint to Lander.

Our downhill free wheel into Lander was great, but we had to climb steeply out of the far end of town to get to the RV park. The bike shop for the morning (and new wheels) had been spotted, so it was time to enjoy the setting sun.

Today was a relatively uneventful day, but for the crickets and the changing rock for scenery. However, we continue to move (south) east and closer to Yorktown.

Final bullet points:

• After a few hours of a completely blue sky, I joked to Jay that the clouds were coming and a storm was brewing, spotting a small fluff of white in the distance.  Within minutes of pointing it out, two others had appeared and then nothing further developed. This does play with the mind a little when riding through such a historic location with native significance, particularly when a little dehydrated and feeling the effects of a strong sun.
• Barbecued steaks outside the RV with Team Heagney provided a superb improvement to limited food throughout the day.

FP

Date: Tuesday 24th August  

Route: Flagg Ranch, Wyoming – Dubois, Wyoming 

 Distance: 74 miles

Total climb: 4239ft 

Net climb: 87ft

After the high drama of the previous evening (and the last few days in general), we needed a straightforward day to get our rhythm back, and that was largely what we got.  Our route took us through our second National Park in two days as we headed straight into Grand Teton Park.  The Tetons are a magnificent range of mountains with sharp, snow capped peaks.  We passed serenely through most of the park, although Fred had to restrain himself from having a “quiet word” with one driver who had cut us up and then chose to stop and the same rest-stop as us. 

The main event of the day – in cycling terms – was the Togwotee (pronounced “To-get-ee”) Pass, the second highest pass on our route at 9658ft.   Our plan was to take on the pass after lunch.  We picked our lunch spot, the evocatively named Hatchet Resort, spurning a perfectly good cafe on the way there.  Unfortunately, the Hatchet Resort Grill was closed and so we had to make do with some snacks from the resort petrol station including, amongst other delectable items, some Teriyaki Beef Jerky which tasted only slightly better than a well worn shoe.   

We began the climb and made it to about 8700ft before stopping at the Togwotee Lodge, hoping against hope that their restaurant would be open – we had been assured by the owner of the Hatchet Resort that it would we.  It wasn’t.  Fortunately, Team Heagney arrived in the nick of time and so we sat in the RV topping up on cookies and, in my case, a sandwich, bought from the Lodge and which provided a more than adequate demonstration of the concept of price gouging.

Spirits raised after some proper food we attacked the remainder of the Pass.  We made it pretty swiftly to 9360ft, 300ft from the summit, before we came to a queue of traffic.  Not for the first time we had come to some road works – with the standard US procedure of having a workman/woman with a board to regulate the traffic.  This time, however, we were told that we would not be allowed to cycle through the road works and had to be given a lift by the “Pilot Car” which leads the traffic through the works.  We explained the nature of our challenge and that we had to cycle the route, but we were firmly informed that we would simply not be allowed to ride our bikes in the works area.  At first our hearts sank but we soon reconciled ourselves to the fact that if we were legally proscribed from riding over the pass, then receiving a lift from the workmen was not cheating, but a necessary stage in the route.  We loaded the bikes onto the flat bed of the pilot truck.  Fred sat in the back with the bikes whilst I rode shotgun with Roy, the pilot car driver.  Roy chatted about his love of the area around the pass, his travels and the nature of the work that was being undertaken (to date it has taken 3 years and it is predicted to take another 3-5 years to complete – this may be something to do with the fact that the workmen are all paid on an hourly rate).  As we drove through the five miles of road works it was not clear, at first, why we could not have ridden over the top of the pass, however, after the first mile the road disintegrated into a mass of stones and mud.  Roy was right, the bikes would not have been able to make it.  Roy dropped us off at the far side of the pass and we were left with a 25 mile downhill ride into Dubois (pronounced “Du-boys”).  We could free-wheel most of the way into Dubois, and although we were delayed by a puncture to Diana’s rear wheel we still made it to the KOA campsite, in Dubois, before sundown

Duboise describes itself as a “Wyoming Wonderland” and is clearly angling towards tourists with its eclectic collection of large animal sculptures, including a giant Jackalope (a cross of an Antelope and a Jack Rabbit), along its main street.  We decided to head into the town for dinner with Team Heagney and spent a great evening at the Rustic Pine Steakhouse,  enlivened by Cathy our very friendly, if slightly eccentric, waitress.  From Cathy we learned two interesting facts about our resting place:

i. Dubois is the most remote town in the USA on the basis that it is further from an Interstate road than any other town

ii. Dubois is in Fremont county – the largest county in the USA

We have not checked either of these facts and so blindly assert them to be true.  In doing so we have kept this blog consistent with the majority of the content of the global hyper-interweb.

A good day.  In truth it was great to have a 24 hour period without a crash or the need for a bike shop. 

JBS

Date: Monday 23rd August 

Route: Madison, Wyoming – Flagg Ranch, Wyoming

Distance: 59 miles

Total climb: 3184ft

Net climb: -40ft

Just to test our resilience again, this morning we had another trip to a bike shop for wheel repairs.  Team Heagney took us back to the magnet that is West Yellowstone, where we found Freeheel and Wheel short of a mechanic and the other bike shop in town unmanned (having sat on the doorstep there for over an hour, in hope).  Therefore, we had to make a 150-mile round trip to Big Sky in Montana for help.

The bike shop, Gallatin Alpine Sports, was very cool and would be recommended to anyone in the area for bike hire, maintenance, skiing or climbing kit or a good coffee.  Tom, who ran the workshop, spent a couple of hours looking at the bikes and teaching us more about maintenance.  This was incredibly valuable, but was surpassed by his riding home to fetch some tools for removing the cassette to lend us for the journey – we’ll pop them in the post when we find replacements or if we finish the ride.  Tom then said all his work was for free, on the basis that our ride was for charity, which came unexpected and as a massive boost to very low morale. A huge thank you to Tom, whose generosity and patience provided a marked change in determination after some frustrating days.

An RV charge back to Madison left us with 59 miles to ride through Yellowstone Park from 5pm. The race was on.

We fired through the first few miles uphill, frustrated somewhat by the volume of traffic touring the park. It is fair to say that whilst the place is stunning and well worth a visit, the traffic inevitably takes something away from the magic.

A quick stop at Old Faithful for some photos and supplies prepared us for the climb ahead.  Sadly, we did not get to see the geyser blow, but had greater sites ahead.

We raced up to another continental divide at 8,391 feet, before the descent began in earnest.  The sun was setting quickly and the temperature dropping noticeably – extra layers required. It was at this point that I noted we would be riding about 20 miles in the dark, under a full moon, through a park that prided itself on its population of wolves, bears and other wildlife.

The scenery was incredible to take in as the traffic reduced and we saw the sun setting over the mountains and the lakes of the park.  However, fewer vehicles meant fewer escape routes in case of danger. We rolled on downhill, passing some deer crossing the road – verification that the wildlife was not put away in pens for the night. After about ten miles, I heard a more dramatic noise in the trees at the side of the road… and it was following us.

I shouted to Jay before accelerating rapidly, but the animal continued after us.  I could see its outline and it looked very big, possibly the size of a small van.  It was running very quickly and sounded like it was knocking down large branches in its path as it charged.  I hoped it was a startled animal, but the fact that it was still chasing after about 50 metres led me to think it was rather hungry for two cyclists – possibly a large grizzly bear.

I shouted back to Jay, who seemed not to be too focused on accelerating (I hadn’t realised, but he couldn’t hear me through his ear warmers on his hat, so he wondered what was going on and thought I was acting a little strange while he rolled at a casual pace).

Eventually, the beast seemed to come to a halt once Jay had sped up and we had raced for nearly a quarter of a mile, hearts pounding. The remaining mileage to the edge of the park was very tense, with Jay listening more intently each time I heard a significant rustle in the trees.

The road seemed to go on forever, so Jay raised a concern that we may have taken a wrong turn and could actually be heading into the middle of the park on the loop road, rather than towards the exit at the southern gate. We therefore tried to flag down the few cars that passed in either direction, but none seemed willing to help – possibly concerned that we were a little crazy to be out on bikes at that time.

In the pitch black, we made it to the end of the park and whooped like crazy, euphoric at going in the right direction and avoiding any major issues with the wildlife. A final two miles got us to the RV and a deserved beer.

With hindsight, it was probably a bison that was chasing us, rather than a bear.  This is not altogether a great situation, since they don’t have a clean record for being friendly to those who confront them on foot.  However, it provided some amusement, given my eagerness to see Il Bisonte in the flesh – I can now claim to have beaten Italy’s finest ever uncapped striker for pace!

Some bullet points to finish:

• I’d like to see Yellowstone again sometime, with a little more daylight
• We were both delighted that the bikes did not come unstuck in the final 20 miles, which would have been a little unnerving.   The idea of changing a tire with a bison supervising is not wholly appealing
• If I happen to see cyclists fully laden with panniers riding in the dark when I’m driving, I’ll be sure to slow down and at least ask them if they are ok.  All we wanted was clarity of direction, which is not a great deal to ask for.

FP