Cycling through the Rockies
Jun 09 '00
Bent on the Rockies
A Rocky Mountain Cycling Odyssey
We arrived on May 31st at the small Jackson Hole Airport ready to set out for our three week Rocky Mountain Oddysey. My touring partner Terry and I had found one another on the Internet rec.touring and were set to hit five national parks in three weeks while taking in the sites and flavors of Wyoming, Montana, British Colombia and Alberta, Canada. Ours would be unique in the history of Rocky Mountain tours in that we were both riding BikeE recumbents.
After a night at the Teton Lodge Hostel and picking up supplies we headed out. By the way on this trip I brought my rock climbing shoes and chalk bag which allowed me to try out the excellent climbing gym in Jackson Hole. Our first days ride would be into Grand Teton National Park, a short jaunt of 30 miles to the nearly deserted park. The mornings and evenings were crisp and clear as Spring usually clings here well into June. At the climbing gym I'd been told that they'd had rain for nearly the entire previous month. We'd experienced some of that upon our arrival and as we set out. I told Terry 'every one of my tours starts with a few hours of rain and then nothing for the rest of the tour'. This would prove true once again as we headed north.
Our first couple days out we covered ground slowly and absorbed the awesome spectacle of the Grand Tetons which are portrayed in two of the mountainous crags which accompany your view for miles. Having the park practically to ourselves really made it special and made cycling a treat as well as the hiking we took in along the way.
Cruising through Grand Tetons National Park
The next night we were outside the entrance to Yellowstone at a private campground planning our next couple days agenda. The rumors we were hearing were of snow banks at the entrance 15' high. Having been to Yellowstone four times in my life I had clear memories of the heat and crowds as well as the splendor of this most magnificent of parks. The previous year I'd attempted to talk a friend into accompanying me for a mid-winter road trip to Yellowstone which he curiously declined. This trip would be my mild compromise and as we ascended into the entrance I was delighted by the beautiful spectacle of a snow covered Yellowstone. The charred remains of the 88' fire were evident on the Southern Rim.
Upon arriving at the Grant Village parking lot we were quickly confronted with the reality of numerous campgrounds and sections of the park still closed. Some adventourists (short for adventure tourist) would balk and be dissapointed, however, this simply meant that the park would be empty and beautiful in a different light. The traffic was minimal as we wound our way up toward Madison Junction campground. As we rode north the amount of snow on the ground dissipated and opened to spectacular meadows and crystal clear lakes. You'll know you're in Yellowstone when you cycle a few meters from a buffalo the size of a volkswagon bug .
The BikeE with fairing approaches...
Once at the Madison Junction campground I quickly brokeout my fly-fishing equipment and started to cast into the river. Just 30 yards away was a herd of buffalo with very small calfs playing sibling games. The rivers were clearly swollen and the fishing was not what I'd hoped for so I took a swim instead.
Buffalo were a common site in Yellowstone.
Back in the campground Terry and I sipped brandy and looked forward to Mammoth Hot Spring the next day. Terry had been to Yellowstone numerous times and since time was limited we decided we'd keep moving everyday and spend more time enjoying the parks of Canada since neither of us had been there.
The next days ride through the park was through the northern tier landscape of cauldrons, geysers and terrain which was magnificent in it's uniqueness. The scent of sulfur and eroded geology is still strong in my memories association of that days ride.
Just off the road could be found an assortment of caldera.
Once at Mammoth we were alarmed to learn that the excellent hotspring on the river was closed off due to high waters. Well, after a great dinner I talked Terry into sneaking out there with me. We were briefly rewarded with the fifty-fifty hot/cold soak and soaking in those mountainscapes which look like giant elephants lain on their side into the horizon.
The Montana countryside was spellbinding.
We headed out the next morning for one of the best stretches of road on our trip. We followed highway 89 until we reached a graded road cutoff which took us through thirty miles of outback country toward Bozeman. These hills and valleys surrounded by majestic mountains still stir my heart on reflection. This road was a timeless trip into a place which seemed like a piece out of a favorite novel. We meandered on the dirt road for most of the day having a picnic by the creek and looking at awe at the occassional home someone had built on a bluff off this road.
That evening we arrived in Bozeman. This town fascinated me because I went to college north of Bozeman in Missoula and had heard so much about it from friends and family. The hostel we stayed at was a bit run down but very friendly. We found a discgolf course and got a quick round in, afterwhich we had a great dinner at the local outdoor grill. The feeling of Summer really hit me that evening as we were having dinner late in the evening twilight and it was still warm enough for shorts. Once back at the hostel I plucked their guitar while Terry and I sipped beer and played a game with some German travellers.
The next morning we visited the Museum of the Rockies at Montanta State University. This was a great museum particularly the paintings done as accounts of the pioneers and early explorations of the west. We set out again and after trying to ride the narrow parallel road for ten miles decided that the Interstate was far safer, which proved true. This day would become an epic, starting with a constant head wind on the flat and famous Montana plane. It seemed like the terrain was a constant that whole day and the only thing that stood out for me aside from the sameness of the scenery was a bakery in the middle of it all with fresh and wonderful pastry (this was the only establishment of any kind that I can remember, though there must have been others).
This day I was glad I had my walkman radio. Riding in a headwind is tedious work and having some good music to listen to can take away some of the frustration. Finally after about 70 miles we came to the base of what appeared to be a small pass requiring crossing before we'd arrive in Butte. Terry and I pulled off under the overpass and discuss our options as it's getting dark and were damn tired. We can camp here or tredge on. The promise of a small city with a few creature comforts seems oddly appealing so we keep riding. After an hour it becomes apparent that this pass is not the bump in the road we'd imagined. After another hour Terry is pushing his bike through sections. I stop and wait for him to catch up and hope that what looks like the summit ahead is just that. I'd purchased a pint of 100 proof schnapps and put it in a bhudda bag for emergencies, which I'd decided this constituted as I took a healthy swig.
We hit the summit a short time later and slowly ascended the other side into darkness and the shimmering lights of Butte. Once in town Terry treated us to a night at the Days Inn. Wow, hot-tub, soft beds, Letterman on the tube... I'd never bivyed in a hotel on any tour, but this day was truly an epic and I had no complaints.
The next day we were fairly bushwhacked as we headed out and decided by the time we were at Deerlodge to check out the camping situation. I was glad we did because we found a great site right on the Clarkfork River with a wonderful view and Terry and I managed to lose my discgolf disc as well as a lure in the river (translate: fun was had).
Setting out the next day I was excited with the prospect of returning to the town where I'd spent three years and had many fond memories and friends. Although we were some seventy miles from Missoula, that day flew by as we followed the Clark Fork toward my ol' home town.
Once in Missoula a flood of memories and feelings overwhelmed me as I saw the changes which had happened in the past ten years. Many of my favorite haunts were still around and some had really grown up. After logging in at the funky hostel I looked up some old friends and we quickly headed out to the discgolf course with imports. Unfortunately the misquitos beat us and we could only get a quick nine in.
My friends hadn't changed much and I made numerous inquiries into where everyone had gone and glossed over my life experiences since I left in 84'. Missoula had grown up in so many ways that by the time we left I'd told myself I should return for a month every Summer. After a swim in the river, breakfast at the old town cafe, hanging out at Butterfly Herbs and exploring the farmers market right before our departure I knew that I wouldn't be gone long.
Two days later we headed out for the Seeley/Swan highway up toward Flathead Lake. The next couple days of cycling were beautiful as the Rocky Mountain Summer unfolded and I would nap next to rivers and meander around beautiful lakes. We found some wonderful private campgrounds and tended to ignore the redneck locals attitude and strange comments. As we wound our way into Glacier National Park we were really getting in the groove of the tour, except Terry kept breaking spokes on his BikeE. We'd both decided that a BOB Trailers would be a good idea for future tours for a number of reasons. Getting the weight off of the bike would seem to lend to effeciency, having a detachable trailer would allow for quick unloading and the ability to then cruise around and having a trailer would allow for a a few more items on tour.
The lake I swam in at Glacier National Park
Glacier was truly wonderous, however, our dream of crossing the Highway to the Sun was cut short due to 30 feet snow banks at the Summit. In retrospect it didn't seem that big a hardship as we were able to spend time exploring the park and headed northwest instead of northeast.
Above Avalanche Lake, Glacier National Park
The parks camping area had the appearance of an RV convention. We pulled into the hiker/biker campground to encounter an older woman who was definitely borderline insane. She would talk to herself in her tent and accused us of attempting to lure bears by cooking dinner. Later she told us of her missionary work in Papau New Guinea and her battle with a terminal disease at present. Our neighboring camper was a great fellow and his wife who was an unending source of questions about touring, our bikes and any related issues. He put away the beers and kept us entertained around the campfire fairly late.
We rode through Anaconda (what a pit) and north toward the border where we discovered some towns that time forgot. I can remember discovering a small road in the middle of nowhere which lead to a railroad track with a few houses along it. The people that lived here were very friendly and curious about the wierd contraption which I called a bike. We stopped in a cafe in one very small town which seemed to be the only culture for a hundred miles with it's beautiful art on the wall and discussion of politics which was global and not scandal oriented as so much of popular political discussion is these days.
Once over the boarder the feeling of Canadian highways was subtle, yet profoundly different then the American highways of the past ten days. There didn't seem to be the rash of commercial billboards and the small towns lacked the neon charm of casinos. Things seemed more refined and cared for while the concept of redneck evaporated.
By days end we were in the small town of Radium Hotsprings where we stayed in a small hotel who's owners were a very friendly couple the wife from Tawain and the husband a native who'd done a fair amount of bike touring himself. We were treated to German food that night at the local restaurant where a plate of spretzler satisfied any carbohydrate and fat depletion I may have suffered to date.
The next day we crossed a steep pass and dropped into the city of Banff. This jewel of the Rockies is a very upscale tourist oasis with a refined charm and international crowd. The hostel was dormitory style and had many amenities despite the employees being behind bullet proof glass. Terry and I wound our way down to the sports bar to watch the NBA finals and eat extra hot chicken wings whilst sipping pints. Of course the hostel was on top of a monstrous hill so going back and forth between town was not something we yearned for.
The next morning Terry had to have spokes custom made for his bike and I did the shopping. The views from Banff are magnificent and worth the visit alone. That day we rode to Lake Louise and started to meet up with some of the other cyclo-tourists who would accompany us on varying parts of the rest of our journey.
Ithibasca Pass, Jasper National Park.
The ride from Banff to Lake Louise is a beautiful stretch and was accompanied by numerous groups and pairs of cyclists. On the last leg we rode with a fellow who'd been touring for four years straight and was a wonderful source of amusement and conversation for the next week. Of course I became an unending source of questions and reflections for him and he gave me insight and perspective on some of the tours I longed for in the future.
That evening we arrived at what had to be the most classy hostel I've ever encountered. While lacking the charm of the Santa Cruz Youth Hostel where I do volunteer work, the Hostel at Lake Louise was a gift to the weary tourist. This place was setup like a grand hotel with a **** restaurant (by my standards) and a fireplace room which seethed with luxury. They even had a bike/ski repair room where Terry and I did whatever work we could fathom our bikes were in need of. It was hard to wheel out of this place the next morning onto the Icefield Parkway which was snow laden, blustery and full of the promise of true adventure.
From Jasper at Lake Louise we headed north along the Icefields Parkway. The mountain terrain is unique to any I've encountered as the mountains rise like great monoliths carved by the erosion of snow and glaciers from millenia. Each hostels we'd encounter stood out like a jewel with it's own unique characteristics.
Looking out over the Colombia Icefield, Jasper Park.
Late into this days ride I remember declaring it to not only have been the jewel of the trip, but quite possibly of my touring career. It carried all the elements of adventure cyclo-touring. The first few hours I was bundled up as I rode headfirst into snowy blusters of wind which made the mountains alive and the landscape seethe. The glacier carved lakes wrestled with the wind and shimmered from the cold. We found a lake front restaurant which made a world class spinach veggie burger and after another hour of riding I saw a car pulled over to the opposite side of the road and one pulled over on my side. I new something was up and I rode over to investigate. There not more then twenty yards away was a mother griz, with brizzled fur and her two young cubs standing on their hind legs playing with one another. At first mesmerized I spent about five seconds taking in this once in a lifetime scene (actually my third time) and quickly had the crashing awareness that I'd better get the hell out of there. As I started to ride away I noticed the fellow who'd parked across the way with his cowboy hat and beard sitting in his rustic 4x4 had his eyes set on me and nodded stating 'thanks'. It became apparent he was probably there simply to save my ass if something went down and as soon as I rode off was relieved.
That night we arrived at the first 'rustic' hostel. No running water, no electricity, but charm and friendship that you could never pay for. After a scorching sauna in the shack with a woodstove we jumped into the near freezing creek. Soon after we prepared dinner among a collection of dear souls who'd arrived by a variety of means and later spent time around the fireplace laughing and joking with glee. This is what it's all about for me.
The next morning we were off again and the awesome splendor of the rugged terrain and these mountains, these mountains were unsurpassed. We rode with two guys doing a cross Canada trek over the Ithabasca Pass which proved a long and grinding crawl to it's summit. Once at the top we picknicked sitting on tundra and rode to the newly built lodge at the Colombia Icefield.
After a few more miles we'd decided to hang our hats at Beauty Creek hostel. This couple little cabins by the river would appear unlivable at first glance but once through the door the only issue for our host Captain Jack was what kind of tea we preffered. I had my first ever coffee shower (heat your own water and accidentaly pour the coffee grounds into it and then go outside and pour it into the slow leak bucket behind the outhouse while it soothes away your slightest discomfort.) Soon after more cyclo-tourists arrived. It was funny how one of the other group that arrived had this surprising air of authority which struck me really strange. Later I found out the woman who was leading them ran another hostel down the way and carried her arrogance like a badge.
That night I stayed around the fire chatting until there were only a few embers and shared stories of my varied travels and experiences. I'll never forget the magic of Beauty Creek where you paid what you could afford to the caretaker and no one was allowed to cook for themselves because a potluck shared meal would be one you wouldn't soon forget.
We set out the next day for what would be our final days ride into Jasper. The next day we lounged in the park with our fellow cyclo-tourists friends and discussed the past and future. This tour had wound down and I was feeling a great longing to continue. The next day we shuttled to Calgary and flew home the day after that.
For those who are considering a first tour I would recommend this route. It has regular services and camping, is on relatively safe roads and has outstanding places to explore. Our pace of 60 miles or so a day made it a three week tour with one rest day.
What I brought on my tour: (* indicates must have/highly recommended)
Overland Chaos Crag II Paniers
Mont Bell Backpack 3 pocket top bag (placed on handlebars, works better than bike bag)
*2 person Eureka lightweight tent
*Eureka 0 degree Peak Sleeping Bag
Thermarest
*Eureka Peak Camp kit
*Eureka Peak Apex II Stove
all-in-one knife w/spoon and fork
Petzl head lamp
3 bungee chords
novel
Sony walkman
packaged flavored oatmeal
Good Coffee and filter/holder
rain poncho/ground cloth
toilet paper in plastic holder
*2 bandanas (very useful multi-purpose items)
small binoculars
AAA Montana, Wyoming and Alberta Maps
small coffee/sip thermos
lightweight fishing rod/flys/spinners/line
clothesline (for hanging food and other uses)
sunblock
plastic squeeze tubes (for assorted uses)
*sunglasses (bring 2 pairs of the cheap kind in case one is lost or breaks)
sponge w/scrubber
dish towel
Powerbars (good for emergency food source) travel wallet misquito head net Disposable Waterproof and Landscape camera (wow that landscape one did some great shots) Bike Computer
My new Omnigo PDA
misquito repellant
Mace (might work in a bear, human or dog attack)
discgolf disc climbing shoes and chalk bag
Personals:
toothbrush
floss
razor
liquid soap
moisturizer
disposable contact lenses
Clothing:
gortex pants
*waterproof gortex shell
*polar fleece coat
*2 pair cycling shorts
*polypropolyne and silk underwear tops and bottoms
*nylon pullover cap (best to get kind that can be pulled over face)
Nike Nguba cycling shoes
Nike 'Teva' style shoes
*Waterproof wool mittens (very important)
T-shirts
2 Long sleeved cotton shirts
Bike related:
Fullheight fairing BikeE 21 sp. recumbent w/rack
*Gyro helmet
*Spare rear and front tires and tubes
*Cool Tool
Spokes
*Myrrycle mirror (excellent item)
SPD pedals
*Bike Patch kit
*Rain Pannier Covers
2 water/squeeze bottles
What I decided I'm bringing next time:
BOB Trailers (this will accomadate bringing the additional items)
Backpacker guitar
Cinching cover for the BOB
frying pan
front bag
scrapbook
scrabble/chess
starmap
Small upright cooler
Climbing gear shoes/chalk
Cooking extras
additional utensils/spices/condiments
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Epinions.com ID:
wsj3
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Member: Will Johnston
Location: Oakland, CA
Reviews written: 18
Trusted by: 10 members
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