Rider on the Storm

Day 23

West Yellowstone, MT to Jackson Lake, WY

Distance: 98 Miles

Total climbing: 5,318ft

Max elevation: 8,391ft

Near-Death Experiences: One more than I’d bargained for.

Today was a day of fresh beginnings. Having finished the 300-mile stretch of riding from Lolo to West Yellowstone that I had done before, it will be all new ground for me from now on.

And so, to be different, I started the day early with a Kale smoothie that I bought from the supermarket last night in West Yellowstone. It smelt and tasted like a bag of pre-washed salad about four days after its use-by date. But I thought it would help me stay healthy before going into battle with the RVs through the Yellowstone National Park.

With wheels rolling by 7am, just around 30 minute after it got light, there was a cold chill to the air, which was a relief after all the heat of late. And although there were no lines of traffic waiting to get through the gate and into the park, there was a steady stream of vehicles already.

And so it began.

I’d been somewhat apprehensive about this day because of the amount of climbing, the huge volume of traffic, the reputed narrow shoulders on the roads, and, of course, the bears.

Although it was not until I was already cycling through the park that it occurred to me that riding with the cornucopia of half-eaten snacks that is the right-hand quadrant of my handlebar bag (I organised it on my last rest day) was perhaps not the cleverest of ideas. Should I be carrying no food at all, or should it be in a bear-proof container? And might they be attracted to my sweet-smelling under-arm deodorant?

As I consoled myself with the thought that it could have been worse had I bought the beef jerky I was intending to get from the butcher’s in Ennis, and with the knowledge that my underarms would not be sweet-smelling for much longer, it wasn’t long before the water, coffee and Kale juice started to make its presence known and the next dilemma reared its ugly head. Surely I couldn’t just nip into the bushes here for fear of feeling a tap on the shoulder from a Grizzly holding a sign saying No Fly-Tipping, No Barbecues and No Squatting?

And why had I forgotten to buy any Bear Spray, despite all advice to the contrary?

Indeed, there were a whole host of issues to overcome before I had even reached the first junction in the park and actually seen any animals, or birds or Geysers, or indeed anything else but trees, road and traffic.

The first spectacle I was treated to was a few erupting Geysers, and some geological features that would look more at home in a 70s Sci-Fi movie. And while I snapped a few photos from the roadside, the ideas of diamond geezers and the film Snatch and other vaguely amusing things went through my head. And while my brain was elsewhere, the first RV invasion of the day occurred as I almost got sucked into its slip-stream, and my head screamed that what goes with the snatch is the jerk, and that Yellowstone definitely had its fair share of those.

Then my mind had to focus as I dug in to climb up and over the Continental Divide, for the first of three times today, with the highest occasion at an eye-watering and heart-palpitating 8,391ft. And yet again the RVs made a pest of themselves…

I wondered why it was that every other vehicle – car, caravan and even large truck - could overtake safely giving me plenty of room, or wait behind me until it was safe, but the RV would plough on through as if on a pre-set course and speed regardless of anything else in its way. It was as if their drivers were pathologically unable to cross the yellow central line in the middle of the road, although they had no qualms at all about wantonly swerving across the white lines on the side of the road and into the shoulder, where they are not supposed to be.

I truly believe that a hapless RV driver could run over the whole peloton of the Tour de France in one of those things and not realize it…

“Did you hear that Marge, do you think I hit something?

“Nah, probably just a rock hon, keep going… oh, and mind not to get too close to that centre line.”

Sigh.

But despite, it all, I survived the 74 miles from the West Entrance of the Park to the South Exit without being mown down by one, and… without seeing any animals at all.

I was just pondering on whether the last of these facts was a good or a bad thing given my “meals on wheels” status when, out of nowhere, I felt a barrage of big fat rain drops hitting my arms and face. Having adorned myself with the delightful wet-weather gear, I carried on for a couple of miles until I heard several claps of thunder and some lightning over the Tetons in the valley ahead of me. Noticing a Lodge just of the highway, I was grateful to turn off to take cover, and waited it out until the rain had died down and the storm seemed to have passed.

Pushing off again into a light drizzle, I got as far as the highway again when the raindrops suddenly came down like a sheet. In an instant my head felt like it was going to explode with the loudest crack of thunder I have ever heard and as the lightning shot down from the sky right in front of me.

Shaking and petrified, I didn’t hang around to see what if anything it had hit, instead swinging straight back round and pedaling my heart out of my chest going the wrong way back up the shoulder and back to the lodge. I stood under cover with a bunch of motor-cyclists getting my breath back and allowing my heart-rate to calm, while we watched the rain pound down hard and run in thick streams all across the parking lot for a good twenty minutes.

When it stopped, I set off again at the same time as the others. It’s just that, as they rode off into the sunset at high pace with their motors, I plodded along and into another rainstorm, the thunder rumbling in the distance, my heart pounding, and my head in a quandary as to whether to keep going or to turn back.

Well, I’m here and writing this blog, so we all know it turned out OK. And although it was a long ride, I got some fantastic photos across Jackson Lake just as the rain had lifted, and was grateful for a hot shower and some great hearty food at the end of it.

A great chat with a lady called Cheri from Colorado who I sat next to at the counter at dinner in the 50s style diner here.

And now to bed.

Me x