Mood:  a-ok

The morning sun glistened off the Teton Mountain Range as I departed Jackson.  With eternal gratitude to the Waltons for the use of their home, I needed now to get to a spot, about 45 miles away, where I could then ascend Togwotee Pass the next day. 

Jackson is at a lower elevation than my destination so there was to be a lot of climbing, but at a gentle grade.  In this case, it was an easy climbing ride.  I stopped for a bit to admire a lone male buffalo, grazing near the road.  With half of his winter coat shed, he looked a little the worst for wear.

It wasn't too long before I got settled in for the afternoon.  The campground did not have a restaurant, so I dined on whatever food they had left on their shelves in their small grocery.

Togwotee Pass was tomorrow's work.  It looked like it would be similar to several of the passes in Washington.  Ironically, they were still the hardest so far.  I intended to leave early.  There was a restaurant near the base of the pass at which I would have breakfast.

It is still cold at night, in the high 30's.

Will McMahan

Mood:  energetic

With a full day in Jackson Hole, there were several things that I wanted to accomplish.  After breakfast, I wanted to go to the Teton National Park Visitor's Center.  Andy, the night before, suggested it as a good place to understand the many physical aspects of the area.  On the way into town yesterday, I had passed a very interesting building that housed the National Museum of Wildlife Art.  That definitely was on my list.  Then I wanted to visit the Jackson Hole Museum and wander around town.

One of Jim Walton's notes suggested that I stop by the meadow below the house because a fox and five kits can be seen.  After breakfast, I was returning on my bicycle, when I noticed a number of photographers, with cameras on tripods, lined up by the meadow.  I stopped.  The kits were down an embankment, 30-40 feet off the road, playing rough and tumble with each other.  I heard the screech of a bird nearby, and saw a magpie, several hundred feet away, chasing the mother fox away from its territory.  Mama soon joined the kits.  Photographs were being snapped like crazy, hoping for that one picture that would be special.  Being an amateur photographer myself, I took stock of the equipment being used.  Between the 8-10 photographers, there was well over $100,000 of gear in use, not including whatever else was in their bags.  Some had huge lenses that retail for over $15,000 each.  One photographer went out into the street and stopped traffic when mama decided to cross it.   I guess wildlife and photographers have a symbiotic relationship, at least when in town.

The Teton Mountain Range is a very rugged set of pinnacles that are hard to match in beauty.  Part of the reason for their ruggedness is because this mountain chain is fairly new, geologically speaking, and hasn't endured the smoothing effects of erosion to the degree that most other mountain chains have.  Nine million years ago, one tectonic plate slipped under another, pushing up the one on top and collapsing the portion beside it, forming the valley that trappers called a "Hole".   The Ice Age started the formation of the present day mountains.  It is pretty spectacular.

The National Museum of Wildlife Art is my kind of art gallery.  I've never been able to see the depth in art that art critics see, especially in modern art.  But here, in Jackson Hole, the art is exactly what you see.  Every imaginable wild animal native to this area is displayed on canvas or in bronze casting.  With the assist of an audio player, I was mesmerized by the exhibits.  Wow.

After lunch, came the museum downtown, full to the brim of photos, displays and artifacts.  Stories of homestead families, old trappers and Indians permeate one exhibit after another.  The museum  is celebrating its 50th year, and it is something that I would recommend to anyone visiting the area.

If I am so lucky to return to this area, there are a number of activities that I would undertake.  One just can't imagine the plethora of wildlife here.  Certainly wildlife viewing and hiking would be on the list of things to do.  The National Park Service has all sorts of activities that they sponsor.  I watched some large rafts navigate the Snake River.  The water was not rough, and it looked like a wonderful way to spend a peaceful afternoon.  Fishing, boating, you-name-it:  if it has to do with the outdoors, you have it in spades in this area.

Tomorrow, Friday, I'll be back in the saddle again (Can you hear Gene Autry?).  Togwotee Pass awaits me on Saturday.  It is 9,658' in elevation.  I will stop tomorrow night near its base, so that I can ascend it the next morning.  Then it is a journey through the middle of Wyoming.  I anticipate a fairly bleak landscape for several days, with possible headwinds.  We'll see.  At any rate I will update this blog as soon as I get the chance.  It will likely be 2-4 days down the road.  At that time I will recount each day.

My special thanks, again, to Jim and Betty Walton, whose largesse has made this portion of my trip a very comfortable one.

God bless you all.

Will McMahan

Mood:  energetic

This morning started early.  I ate breakfast in the restaurant at 6:30 AM. 

Afterwards, as I was pedalling back, I noticed a man with a camera and a tripod over by where the foxes were yesterday, so I went over to take a look.  The fox family now were about 25' from the sidewalk, down a slope.  The kits were just like puppies or kittens, rolling all over, play-biting each other, preparing themselves for adulthood.  Mama decided to get some sun so she walked up the slope to lie down in the sun, next to the sidewalk.  She was some 40' away from me.  A crowd was starting to gather.  All went well until a man walking his German Shephard came our direction.  In all fairness, the dog was on a leash and very well trained, but the owner didn't realize why everyone was gathering.  The moment mama fox saw the dog, she sat right up, with her ears pointed to the sky, and made some sort of yip or bark at the dog.  She did this several times.  The owner had the dog lie down, and it was 50-75 ' away, but mama was not satisfied.  Finally the dog owner walked the dog out into the parking lot in a wide semi-circle and mama relaxed.  My one regret is not watching the kits, because they had vanished.  I'm sure that they ran for their den at mama's first yip.

My next-door-neighbor, Chuck Bell, was not going into the Jackson Hole area, but was headed directly over Tougethee Pass.  So, like two ships passing in the night, we probably would not see each other again.  After a short prayer, he took off.  I left 10 minutes later.  It was around 10:30 AM.

I had been told to be sure to stop by and look at the Jackson Lake Lodge.  So when it came up, five miles down the road, I turned in to see what was so special.  Clearly it was a first class facility with doormen, valets--services that , remarkably(!), were missing from the typical lodging of which I had partaken.  Upon entering, there is a very wide staircase going up to the second floor, which appeared to be the main floor of the Lodge.  At the top of the stairs, I stopped in awe.  Looking out through wall-to-wall windows was the most jaw-dropping panorama.  It showed Jackson Lake mirroring the snowy, rugged Teton Range.  Words cannot describe the majesty presented. 

After some photos, I had lunch and left at noon.  At the bottom of the driveway, some people were gathered, so I joined them, and watched a moose lunching on some greenery in a slough by the road. 

The road to Jackson, Wyoming, is considered a spur road by cross country bicyclers, though certainly not by the local populace.  It was a rolling highway with frequent overlooks, and educational displays about the formation of the Teton Range.  The Snake River winds its way through the valley.  From up high it is easy to see the differing plateaus signifying the width of the Snake River eons ago.

Lodging had become, for me, a major concern about the Jackson Hole area.  The previous Sunday, after finding out that favored campgrounds were closed and no lodging available in Yellowstone, I had called my new friends from the Jackson Hot Springs Lodge, Jim and Betty Walton, for advice on inexpensive and available lodging.  To my immense surprise, Jim insisted that I stay at their home.  He and Betty were going to be gone for a few days to a wedding, but he insisted that they wished for me to use their home as lodging in their absence.  It is very, very humbling to do a self-examination of oneself, and ask "Would I display this generosity to a stranger?"  There are a number of lessons that I am learning, and will expand on at a later date, but Jim and Betty have taught me one.

Access was to be provided by Andy Irvine, a young attorney in town.  Years ago, the Waltons lived across the street from Andy's family in the Tri-Cities area of eastern Washington, and they have "adopted" him since he has landed in Jackson.  I rode into town to the Town Square, and gave him a call.  Within 5 minutes, we met, and he showed me the way to the Walton's home, a mile or so from downtown.

There are a list of "instructions" in Jim's welcoming letter on the kitchen island.  If the neighboring cat comes by some cat food is under the seat.  The bag of dog bone treats is for "Marty" the dog next door, who won't leave his yard, but will bark, signifying that he would like a dog bone thown his way. 

I almost feel like a voyeur, seeing the interests, hobbies and activities that keep this active retired couple busy.  They personify  how to enjoy Life and living, during retirement.  Andy and I had a fine dinner in a Chop House.  When I hit the sack a little after 10 PM, I slept well.

Will McMahan

Mood:  energetic

There was no hurry to decamp.  It was very cold in the morning, warming quickly once the sun rose over the mountain. 

The ride to Colter Bay was uneventful.  They let bicycle campers stay in a special area reserved for "Hiker/Bikers".  As I was setting up camp I chatted with a fellow on the camp site next door, Chuck Bell.  It seems that we were both riding the same route, but a day or two apart, and just met now because of my two rest days in West Yellowstone.  Chuck is also riding solo.  This was a great opportunity to examine each other's gear and bikes and bicycling philosophies.  Several other bicyclers trickled in and we compared notes for potential problems up the road.

Getting groceries at the Colter Bay store, I noticed a crowd of people watching something.  About 75' into the woods a red fox and her three kits were relaxing.  Rather mama was relaxing, the kits were all over the place.  It was fun to watch.

Chuck and I had dinner together in the Colter Bay Restaurant and it was interesting to see the similarities that we shared.  One was our faith, and our attempts to get to know God better.  He lent me a book for the evening called "The Shack".  It read well, and I intend to purchase it in Boulder when I will have a lighter load as I send my winter stuff back home.

That night as I was lying in my sleeping bag, someone in the campground played "Taps" at 10 PM.  Played slowly, almost mournfully, it just seemed right.  Still sleep kept evading me.  Suddenly, I heard something that I had always wished to hear:  the howling of a wolf pack.  It was eerie and fascinating, and soon every dog in the campground joined in.  It didn't last more than 30 seconds, I think, but I will always treasure it.  What I didn't hear, was a bear trying to get into the metal "bear box" that every two campsites share.  It woke Chuck up since the metal container was on his campsite.  I now understand all the warnings posted everywhere in the campground.   We had put all our food in the container as well as toiletries and water bottles.

Tomorrow, I will be traveling to Jackson Hole.  The town called Jackson is the center of Jackson Hole and is supposed to be very interesting.  It is only 40 miles, so I will take my time in the morning.  I have two scheduled rest days there.

Will McMahan

Mood:  not sure

To be honest, I was not looking forward to leaving this plush condo, and endure a hard day of bicycling.  Nevertheless, by 7:30 AM, I was on the road.  Within 5 minutes I had entered Wyoming. 

My original thoughts were to just push on and experience Yellowstone some other time, but Yellowstone wasn't about to let that happen.  I just couldn't believe how beautiful it is.  Majestic meadows, with serpentine streams meandering through them.  Incredible hues of color.  Many herds of bison, ranging from two to two hundred, sometimes crossing the road and stopping traffic.  An eagle perched on the edge of her nest, 100 yards off the road.  Elk grazing.  It seemed like every bend was a postcard to remember.  And the miles seemed to slip by quickly.

Coming around a bend, traffic was stopped, so I slowed down and stopped behind a car.  A couple of dozen buffaloes were in the middle of the road.  When that happens all vehicles have to stop until the animals decide to move.  In this case they decided to move my direction.   I was snapping pictures from one side of the car in front of me, then from the other side.  As the last bison, passed the front car, it moved on up the road.  There were 6-7 cars ahead of me, and, one by one, they took off.  The trouble started when the car in front of me moved on, and they discovered me.  They immediately stopped.  A cow with her calf was 8' to my front left.  Another cow and calf were 10' to my front right.  A male yearling was stood sideways 5-6' in front of me and a touch to the right.  I'm not sure, but I don't think they were just admiring my bike.  They seemed very nervous, and I was not about to add to that.  I thought that if I inched forward and a bit to the left, I might be able to ease by, but just the act of putting my foot on the pedal made the young male jump.  So I rested my left elbow on the handlebars, cupped my chin in my hand, and waited, motionless.  And waited.  And waited.  It was a good five minutes before they decided that I was no threat, and then resumed walking down the road.  A bunch of bicyclers were waiting at the front of the oncoming line of cars, and as I passed them I shrugged and said "I didn't kinow what they were going to do."   They laughed and said "We didn't either!"  It was an exhilerating experience, close up to nature, but only because there was no damage or injury.  They are pretty big.  Many a time I have been "buffaloed", just not like this.

I ate a couple of sandwiches, then skipped Old Faithful, concerned about the time, and soon started climbing toward Craig Pass.  I don't know if the passes here are not as daunting, or if I am just getting in better shape, or the legs getting stronger, but I went over Craig Pass and crossed the Continental Divide three times, and it just didn't seem that hard.  Since there are always two sides to every story, despite how strong I was feeling, reality was brought home when during one long climb, a car slowed down beside me, and a young woman yelled out "Are you okay?  Do you need any help?"  I could only surmise that I must not have looked so strong to the vehicles passing by. The story of my life.

Apparently the old body liked the rest and food in West Yellowstone, because, when I pulled into my campground, I had pedalled 77 miles including some significant climbing, and was not the worst for wear.

This was the first night that I have camped since Day #2.  They conveniently gave me a camp site next to the showers and bathroom.  The warm water felt good, and a solid meal in their restaurant topped off a very good day.

On the way back to my campsite, I got into a conversation with a couple from Boulder, Colorado (where I will be stopping for a few days around July 1st) and we had a great time.  They are die-hard Colorado University athletics fans, with CU paraphenalia all over there vehicle, lawn chairs etc.  There names are Joan Russel and Chuck McElwain.  Joan knows the husband of one of my cousins and had served on a board with him.  We chatted for quite a while before getting down to a fierce contest of Scrabble.  They were the nicest people. 

Because I rode much longer today than planned for, tomorrow would be very short--just 16-18 miles, to the Colter Bay Campground.  I would be tenting there again.

Will McMahan

Mood:  lazy

Today was very similar to yesterday.  Resting and eating, with a little extracurricular activity or two thrown in. 

There is a fascinating exhibit at the Grizzley and Wolf Discovery Center, a block from where I am staying.  Besides indoor exhibits to help one learn more about bears and wolves, there were two large outdoor areas, one containing four gray wolves, and one containing two grizzlies.  On Saturday, the grizzlies were quite active, even getting into a territorial fight.  The wolves were too smart to be active in the afternoon heat.

After breakfast I headed to the Discovery Center to see if the wolves would be active.  They were.  I took a number of photos, then headed to church for bible study and worship.

Tomorrow, I'll be back on the road again.  A surprise got thrown my way, and it is my own darned fault.  The campground which I planned to camp tomorrow night is closed for another week.  The only alternative that I have been able to find is 71-72 miles from West Yellowstone, not the distance I like, especially in light of the climbing that I will have to do.  The ride through Yellowstone starts at an elevation lf 6,700'.  I will have to climb over Craig Pass at 8,261, then cross the Continental Divide twice at 8,391' and 7,988'.  I will likely not be able to stop at Old Faithful or anything else that looks interesting.  It doesn't sound like a fun day, but I hope to enjoy the scenery through the Park.   It will be several days before I have a chance to update this journal.

Mood:  d'oh

Cousin Will,

We're still planning on seeing you in Estes Park on July 1st. I'm keeping the hot tub warm for you.

Trail Ridge Road has been closed off and on due to some late spring snows. But I was up there shovelling this morning so it's open now.

I'm filled with admiration for you for taking on this epic journey. It's great that you're still on schedule. I have just one piece of advice for you: watch out for rattle snakes on the road as you cross Wyoming.

See you soon.

Cousin Dick Cross

Mood:  hungry

Slept.  Ate.  Fixed the bike.  Rested.  Ate.  Watched live grizzlies in captivity.  Ate.  Rested.  Hot tubbed.  Stretched.  Ate.  Napped.  Ate.  Watched movie.  Went to bed.

Will McMahan

Mood:  a-ok

Today was not going to be a difficult one.  It was 64 miles, with 1,700' of elevation gain. After the last few days, I was looking forward to today.  The views were supposed to be great and I had a very nice time-share room awaiting me at the other end.  Plus, this being my sixth day of riding, I was going to treat myself to two days of rest.

Delena had been gracious enough the day before to call some friends of hers and ask is they could put me up last night, which they agreed to.  Jack Finley and Jenn Doney were wonderful hosts, and treated me like family.  Besides their considerable artistic talent, they were interesting and fun folks.

Jack made the perfect breakfast for a touring bicyclist:  pancakes, eggs, sausage and orange juice.  I was able to test out Jack's theory that Jenn makes the strongest coffee in the world.  They were such nice people, and I was in no hurry to leave with such a short day ahead.  They left for work and I had some business to attend to, regarding my mother's finances, then I packed up and left at 9 AM.

There were likely not going to be any restaurants or general stores open until getting close to West Yellowstone, so I picked up a sandwich in Ennis for the road.  There was a small town (this typically means a general store/cafe/bar/campsites) up the road called Cameron.  West Yellowstone, here I come!

The first indication of trouble came quickly.  For the first time since leaving Colville I was riding into a strong headwind.  Between that and the slight elevation gain, I  was going much much slower than normal.  It is frustrating because not only does one have to pedal harder while going slower, but it means that  hours of pedalling will be added to the day.  Furthermore, I was under the impression that the distance was 64 miles.  It was 71.  I arrived in Cameron, the place 11 miles up the road.  It was 11 AM.  I was averaging about 6-6.5 mph.  Quick math showed that I would be lucky to get to West Yellowstone by 8-9 PM, if I could last that long.

My new strategy was to pedal consistently, not too hard and not too gently, and take fast breaks with no delays.  I hoped that the headwind would go away at some point.

Cameron had littled to choose from on the shelf, but I took what I thought might give me a little energy including some milk.  I gobbled everything down and got going.  An hour later, still into the headwind, I took a break.  Half a sandwich, a handful of trail mix and lots of water and I was on the road again.  This  was going to be a looong day.

The road was set up so that the bicycler had a rumble strip between the rider and the white line.   Unfortunately, the shoulder left to ride on varied between 18-24", not much if one wanted to look around at all.  I had to focus on the narrow shoulder or else find my self getting "rumble stripped" or in troulbe on the right in soft gravel.  Whatever panoramas were there, I was not able to enjoy as much as normal.

By the 25th or 30th mile the road had changed direction enough to minimize the headwind.  The climbing continued.  Five minute breaks every 1-1 1/2 hours.  I ran out of water but there was plenty around.  Slowly but surely I ran out of snack food, but I tried to space it so that I would be in West Yellowstone at that point.  The last 8 miles were into a strong headwind again, but who cares at that point.

When I arrived at West Yellowstone, it was 6:15 PM.  Of the 9 1/4 hours since I left near Ennis, at least 8 1/2 of it was solid, determined pedalling.  I don't remember being so exhausted.  Maybe the long previous day, or the combination of 4 mountain passes in the three previous days, helped to wear me down, but I was very, very tired.  And very hungry.

Of course, a hot shower and food in the belle helps!   Now I could do laundry (and boy, some of my clothes were in drastic need of laundering), rest, have lots of time to work on stretching with pilates, rest, eat, and rest.

I sure miss Karen.

This past week was a memorable one.  Great vistas.  Wonderful people.  Interesting challenges.  Every day was fun excepting today.

Oh, I almost forgot.  My odometer passed the 1,000 mile mark.  That means that of the 3,800 mile trip, I am over a quarter of the way to Raleigh.  Pleasant dreams.

Will McMahan