Yogi Bear & Cowboy Country

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After an early morning start and an hour or so of riding we were ready to stop for breakfast, heading out of Idaho on our way to Wyoming. It was a Saturday morning in a small country town and we were expecting the usual diner-type option. We almost don't have to look at the menu now: there isn't much variety in breakfast, lunch or dinner choices across the country.

We stop at a small cafe and immediately notice something different. There is a coffee machine in the corner. A real espresso! A latte! Small joys. Although to be honest I have got quite used to the percolated coffee that is mostly served over here, with the tiny sealed cups of half & half. I did ask someone what half & half was and they didn't quite understand my question. It's half & half. Yes, but half of what with half of what? They shrugged and walked away. I think it's what we call 'milk'.

Anyway, we sit down to real coffee and a great breakfast. If it had smashed avo on the menu I would have thought we were in Australia. We were about to get on the road again when the rain started. Not too bad we thought, we can wait a bit. And then came the first hail storm, beating down on the tin roof, loud and strong. We ordered more coffee and muffins and waited for the storm to pass. Just as we thought the weather had settled - don't like the weather, a local told us, just wait ten minutes - the second hail storm passed over and took out all the electricity. In all, three hail storms came through that morning, interspersed by strong winds and driving rain. And by a margin of about ten minutes we were snug in a cafe instead of being halfway up the Teton Pass which we were about to cross. Thank you Angels.

Eventually we did have to leave our sanctuary, squeeze into our rain gear (plastic pants are really hard to get on over motorbike books and jeans) and head over to Jackson, Wyoming and the Grand Tetons. The Pass would have been a great ride and view if (a) it wasn't clouded in and peeing with rain and (b) I wasn't concentrating so hard on every inch of road in front of me so I didn't skid off the side of the mountain. The only consolation I felt was that I had so much gear on, if I came off I would just bounce down the mountain like a Harley Michelin Man.

We made it safely up and over and rode straight into the Grand Teton National Park. We hadn't heard of this mountain range until last week when new friends had recommended it. It is just south of Yellowstone on the western border of Wyoming, the mountains rising out of the flat plains of Idaho with no warning. Quite spectacular. It is a much cooler day due to the rain and cloud cover so we decide to do one of the shorter hikes in the park. We had thought we might do more hiking on this trip, but our riding days are longer and enthusiasm shorter so it hasn't happened. With just a short (albeit wet) ride this morning, there was still some energy to go walking so we take a quick boat ride across a lake and then start up a trail to Inspiration Point.

I'm pretty sure U.S. Trail guides use a similar system as they do in Australia. Just one mile turns into two, turns into oh you're not actually at the point you want to be, there's still a-ways to go. But once we had started we had to keep going, and there was the rain to keep us cool. We hiked to an altitude of 7,200 feet (equivalent of our Mt Kusciosko, highest peak in Australia). Okay, so the base of the lake where we started was probably at 6,000 feet, but it still felt intrepid. We were rewarded with a great view of more mountains to climb on one side and the sweeping plains of Wyoming on the other. We felt a little like Lewis and Clarke. If they had hiked through the wilderness in motorbike boots and jeans, with a couple hundred other tourists by their side.

In the late afternoon we took a guided raft for ten miles down the Snake River. As we were ferried to the starting point with our fellow floaters, we all introduced ourselves and shared our travels. One man was particularly impressed with how much we rode each day (averaging around 450km/day). That must take you at least 12 hours a day! No, we take lots of breaks I told him. It's really not that much. Well, you must drink lots of water and use a lot of sunscreen. Sure. He was incredulous and was trying to calculate the miles conversion to confirm our magnificent achievement. And then we realised. He thought we were cycling! Seriously, dude? Does this body look like it cycles 450km a day? No. No, it does not. It looks like the body of someone who sits on their arse all day, parks as close as they can to the diner and has burger and fries for lunch. A body built for comfortable adventure.

The rafting was a great way to see the river and although we didn't see any bears or moose, we did see quite a few beavers and the outcomes of their productivity. They really do chew away around the base of trees until there is nothing but a small point keeping the tree standing. Just like in the cartoons. Apparently they work together in family groups to log the trees around river banks and get fresh wood piled and stored during the spring and summer. I imagined one of them being the foreman. Jim, you're on the Lodge Pine, we need another couple of layers off today. Frank, you take the Spruce. But Larry, my teeth are sore. No excuses, Frank. This beaver lodge ain't gonna stock itself for the winter.

We saw Bald Eagles perched on the highest branches they could find, surveying their kingdom. Beautiful wetlands which flood each spring when the snow melts, changing the trajectory of the river each year. Wyoming is full of open plains and national parks so in summer the wildlife has millions of acres to roam and forage. It is a 'fence out' state, where the onus is on you to keep animals fenced out, rather than ranchers or parks to keep things fenced in. It is a beautiful wilderness, very strongly connected to the rhythms of the seasons and the wildlife.

We stay in Jackson that night and the next day ride through to Yellowstone National Park, on the look out for Yogi Bear. Yellowstone is just north and adjacent to the Tetons, but formed from different geological activity so they are quite separate ranges. The traffic starts pretty much as we leave town and it is slow going for the 80kms into Yellowstone. This area gets 4 million visitors a year and I'm pretty sure 3.99 of those come during summer. The whole of Yellowstone is almost 9,000 square kilometres, so it is very big. But everyone follows the same route and is here to see the same things, including us. We crawl our way to the middle of the park to see Old Faithful, the famous geyser. It is still an hour away from erupting, or whatever it is that geysers do. Spout? Spurt? So we wander through the exhibits learning about volcanic activity etc etc and then watch the obligatory national park movie before joining the crowds around a patch of steaming stone. The anticipation is building for the grand event and people are jostling for position so they can Instagram a shot that will look like they are having a wilderness adventure instead of driving in an air conditioned car, parking in a concrete carpark and eating at a fast-food restaurant, like they do most days. The heat and the crowds are getting to me. And then Old Faithful blows. A tall spout of water shoots up into the air for about two minutes and it's all over. Not as impressive as I was expecting.Of course Old Faithful isn't all that is here. Geysers and hot springs and other things which I should have paid more attention to are all over the place. There are even some unique organisms found here that are helping scientists cure cancer. Or something like that.

We spend the next two hours riding, slowly, slowly, back out of the park. Unlike on other occasions, the traffic is so thick we can't get out in front. Drivers are also prone to crazy manoeuvres as they randomly stop or turn if they think they see something in the bushes. Everyone wants a bear story to take home. We saw one bad car accident, fortunately nobody injured, but we were on high alert for the rest of the day. The one highlight of the afternoon was a solo Bison rambling down the road next to us. The traffic had stopped and as the bison passed so the cars started to move on. We were next. I kept Mr Bison in my periphery as I slowly edged the bike forward. I didn't want to make eye contact and for him to mistake me for a Lady Bison, all in black and just the right size for some afternoon delight. It was cool being up close and personal, but I didn't want to get too personal.

We finally make it to West Yellowstone, the town where we are staying for the night and which can charge an outrageous fee for a basic room. Because, supply and demand. We get a good recommendation for a bar and head out, realising we are definitely in cowboy country now. Stuffed bison, deer and elk line the walls of our chosen establishment, and there are cowboy hats and boots aplenty. A local beer and good ribs help soothe our frustration at having covered so little kilometres today even though we'd been on the bikes for hours.

We need to head back through the park in the morning and out the north east entrance to continue our ride through Wyoming on our way to Sturgis in South Dakota. We start out early in hopes to avoid the traffic. If only we had been the only ones to think of that. The traffic wasn't so bad as yesterday, but not the open roads we have been used to. And early in the morning it was cold, very cold. I had seen a couple of riders walking about the park yesterday in leather chaps and had laughed (to myself, they looked too big to laugh at to their face). I hadn't seen anyone wearing chaps since I had given up going to those dubious nightclubs back in the '90's. But I wasn't laughing now. What I would have given for a pair of leather chaps to cut the windchill. We stopped by the side of the road at one point so I could put my hands onto my engine block to try and get feeling back in my fingers. I had every warm layer I could fit on, and Andrew very gallantly handed over his winter gloves for me to wear, which are much warmer than mine. After just one hour we had to stop at a cafe and go inside to warm up. The waitress took one look at us and gave us free hot chocolates. A bit chilly, she noted. I bought some woollen gloves to line my bike gloves and we set off again, by now any slight time advantage we had in leaving early had completely disappeared.

We were now in the North-Eastern corner of the park where the 'Yellowstone Grand Canyon' was located. May as well stop and have a look while we're here. Another one of those 'not too far to go now, you're almost there...' hikes down to a viewing point. Remember I'm wearing every warm piece of clothing I own, including about 2kgs of leather jacket and vest. Ten minutes in and I'm not so hot. Another ten minutes and I'm quite warm. Another ten minutes and I'm wondering who the hell is going to carry this wardrobe back up the canyon we'd just walked down. It was a spectacular canyon and now, as I sit writing this, I'm quite glad we made the trek. I may not have expressed myself in that way at the time.

In conclusion: if geothermal activity is your thing, by all means visit Yellowstone. But don't go in summer vacation time.

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Photos

Old Faithful
What we want you to see

Old Faithful
What it's really like.

Bear!
...that we did not see