June 18, 1995
To Cody
I awake this morning to another all-grey, cold morning. After packing, I bike to the lodge to check out and then wait around for breakfast. This morning I try the buffet, which was much better than yesterday's morning meal. I'm filled, caffeinated, and as ready as I'm likely to be for a cold climb up a mountain pass.
First though, I check out the weather forecast and find that Beartooth Pass, which towers between here and my flight home from Billings, is buried under eight feet of snow - closed, with no predicted opening date. I call Rachael to check in with her and to talk through the options. After consulting the maps, I decide that there is still time to reach Billings by way of Cody, though it adds about 40 miles and depends on making Cody, 95 miles away, tonight.
No other plan loos at all promising, so I hop on my bike and head south once more toward Yellowstone Lake. To be honest, I don't really miss the climb to Dunraven Pass; but I'm not that keen on a 95 mile day either.
It is a bit unusual to cycle the same stretch of road a third time. I think this is a new personal record on a tour, although I'll need to look back on my notes from Germany to be sure - Rachael and I backtracked a long ways then to retrieve my billfold from the Post Office where I'd left it. Having seen this road so recently and having so many miles to cover today, I pedal steadily, not allowing myself to be distracted by roadside buffalo, pelicans and other such roadside attractions - until, about five miles from Fishing Bridge, I encounter what appears to be the same moose as I saw yesterday. Wonderfully though, she is on the same side of the river now, at most one hundred feet from the road. It was mesmerizing to watch her graze, seemingly oblivious to the sizable gallery of observers. It was enough to make me feel fortunate that I had been snowed out of my original route.
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At Fishing Bridge I stopped for a snack and to buy another roll of film, and was frustrated by the length of time that the sales transaction took. The novice sales clerk misrecords the charge against my card, and needs to cancel it out. She doesn't know how though and needs help from her manager - who frustratingly enough waits long enough so that he can bring several other new employees over to use this as a training opportunity. Several minutes later as I am unlocking my bike, the manager hurries out the door, relieved to find me so that he could return my card. A narrow escape.
From Fishing Bridge the route east follows the north shore of Yellowstone Lake for about seven miles until beginning a gradual twelve mile climb over 8,500' Sylvan Pass. I'm lucky with the wind, weather and traffic - almost no one else is traveling east today, so I almost have a private bike lane to myself. There is a modest tailwind, and the grey skies do more no harm than the occasional soft drizzle. It is still quite cold though, and becomes worse as I gain elevation. At the summit there is quite a bit of snow on the ground, and families are pulling over to allow children a chance to sled down roadside slopes. One drawback is a seven mile unpaved stretch under construction - but even this isn't bad, and has the pleasant effect of batching up traffic into clusters spaced about five minutes apart, a pattern that holds nearly as far as the summit.
The ride down the east slope is fabulous - for almost fifty miles I coast and race downhill and downhill through wonderfully scenic country. The ride improves with each mile as the landscape opens up and the sun finally breaks out. The highway drops 3,500' before reaching Cody as it follows the path of the Shoshone River. After leaving the forests and Yellowstone Park behind, the road enters an intriguing canyon with striking, weathered volcanic cliffs; and after about ten miles of canyon the road opens into ranch country with fine views of the Absaroka Range to the south. Later, the road passes the north shore of the reservation behind Buffalo Bill Dam before the final few miles to Cody.
I break up the ride at Pahashka Teepee, the site of one of Buffalo Bill's resorts, for blueberry pie and great coffee. Most of all I enjoy reading the menu, which featured four articles from the New York Times relating to a bank robbery by two members of Butch Cassidy's Hole in the Wall Gang, and their several day pursuit by a posse that included Cody himself. The dramatic, almost breathless reporting style make me feel like I am in the middle of the chase myself.
Cody, with its population of only 7,500, covers a surprising amount of land. Its main strip is about five miles long and appears to include about fifty motels. I check in to one in the heart of town and then hurry off for a quick tour of the Wild West Museum before it closes. I enjoy in particular the gallery of western paintings that includes a good collection by all the major western artists; and the Buffalo Bill exhibit, with photos, letters, and a series of posters from his wild west shows. After that I go shopping, and ship home a Mexican Indian vase for Rachael; and finish off the day with a great Mexican meal - blue corn tortillas with shredded chicken, cheese and spinach. Easily my favorite meal of the tour.
Later that night, I am awakened by the sounds of splashing from the road traffic. The rains have returned with a vengeance.
Today's ride: 94 miles (151 km)
Total: 331 miles (533 km)
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