Today’s ride flowed like a river. More precisely, like the Wind river – through reservations, farmland, red rock formations, and wide open sage country.

A good day starts with a good breakfast. Today’s fare was a hearty homemade breakfast buffet provided by some good folks in Dubois. Pancakes, REAL scrambled eggs, bacon, potatoes, and OJ provides optimal fuel for a 79 mile spin. A brisk 40 degrees at the start – but the rising sun and declining elevation warmed the air as we rode along.

Feeling inquisitive, I stopped at a point of interest on the roadside. I should stop at these more often, since they are usually enlightening and thought provoking – like exercise for the mind while the body cranks those pedals. The hand-carved description told of a legendary battle between Shoshone, Bannock, and Crow Indians for supremacy of hunting grounds in this river basin and surrounding buttes.

Interesting to reflect on how this area has changed over the last 150 years since that tribal battle. Or perhaps, how little has changed? The wind and water keep flowing while our human footprints fade into memories. What will the next 150 years bring?

Time to rest the body and mind, tomorrow is a long mileage day.

~Dan

Waking up to rain while on a bike tour is generally not ideal. That was the case in Jackson this morning. So we delayed our start a bit, waited for the clouds to clear, and pedaled away from the Tetons towards the Wyoming cowboy town of Dubois (pronounced like DEW-Boyz). The clouds eventually yielded spectacular views of the snow-covered Tetons.

Pedaling up Togwotee (TOGA-tee) pass brought us to the highest point on the cross-country tour: 9,584 feet at the Continental Divide. The Pacific watershed behind us, the Atlantic ahead of us. In theory, it should be mostly downhill from here, all the way to New Hampshire?

It was really cold up there at altitude, with a biting North-west wind. Thankfully I had my rain jacket with me, and fortunately, the wind was in our favor, blowing down-valley to our destination. With a 20mph tailwind, it felt like I was riding an e-bike (electric-assist bicycle). In actuality, I guess it was a w-bike (wind-assist bicycle) today.

Remember motel keys? Not those plastic card things that take 3-4 tries to work, but actual metal keys? That’s still the tried and true method employed by the friendly western folks here at the Stagecoach Inn. Not much changes in the town of Dubois, which is not necessarily a bad thing.

I can see and hear the aptly named Wind River from my room window. Tomorrow we follow the river, and hopefully the wind, down to the easily pronounceable town of Riverton (RIVER-ton).

~Dan

Hail Victor! That’s Victor, as in the town of Victor Idaho, and hail, as in frozen precipitation. I’ve been very fortunate with good weather through the first 14 days of this coast-to-coast journey. Oregon offered nothing more than a few sprinkles, and Idaho was mild and dry, up until about 5 miles from the Idaho-Wyoming border.

65 miles into our ride, after successfully climbing and descending Pine Creek Summit (elevation 6764′), a fellow rider and I stopped at the Big Hole BBQ in the small mountain town of Victor to fuel up for upcoming Teton Pass. A couple others soon joined us. While waiting for lunch to arrive at our sunny outdoor table, we noticed ominous black clouds looming over the beautiful mountain valley behind us. Within minutes after moving to an inside table, a thunderous storm flung menus and pine cones onto the sidewalk and soon unleashed a torrent of pelting rain and hail. A few other passing cyclists sought shelter with us as the storm continued. The small BBQ shack suddenly became a very popular mid-day destination.

Like most mountain storms, this one departed almost as quickly as it arrived. Within an hour, the sun reemerged and I continued on up the wet road to the Wyoming Border and over the steep and challenging Teton Pass (elev. 8431′). I enjoyed a sparkling view of Jackson Hole from the top, took a few quick photos, then made a quick descent into Jackson before the next storm rumbled in.

91 miles with over 6,000 feet of climbing makes for an epic day. Toss some crazy weather into the mix, and this becomes one of those memorable days that us cycling geeks will be talking about for years to come.

~Dan