We rode on toward Mount Rushmore. First we stopped to do a bit of bouldering. There's a picture that was taken a few seconds after this one, but it's not fit for this PG-13 blog.
Here are those presidents.
And here we are at Crazy Horse with a family that we saw everywhere. I hope they finish sculpting this guy before I'm dead, and his horse too.
The Custer police wouldn't let us sleep in jail unless we committed a crime, so we camped at a park instead. Then we finally exited the wide state of South Dakota and entered even more desolate Wyoming. We stopped at a ranch to fill up water, and guess what. The woman who greeted us trained horses, and her husband was a rodeo world champion—and their dog played pool!
We hung out at the ranch for a while, and we probably should have just taken the offer to stay there, but we pressed on, and rode into the night. We stayed in and around this dilapidated schoolhouse.
Lee had a flat tire, so he fixed it the next morning. Then we started riding, and he got another one. And another one. And another one. Unable to find the tiny source of the punctures, Lee would flat every few miles. He tried coating the inside of the tire with duct tape, but the only thing that was good for was this picture.
Then, as we were riding, a woman pulled her truck over and asked if we needed a ride. She just thought it was crazy to ride in the heat. We were OK, but Lee was happy to get a ride to Wright, WY while Mike and I rode. Lee needed a new tire, and the nearest bike shop was either 90 miles to Casper—the way we were going—or 50 miles out of way to Gillette. Mike and I prepared to ride to Casper while Lee hitchhiked, but the secretary at an auto shop was going to Gillette the next morning, so Lee ordered a tire over the phone and she picked it up for him.
While Mike and I were riding into Wright, Lee found us a place to camp behind Hank's bar/grill. So we all went to Hank's for dinner, where we hung out with Kim, the woman who had picked up Lee earlier. Then her husband Sean arrived, and so did all their friends. A whole lot of us sat around the table, all with beers, and we three bikers with big tasty dinners. Kim and Sean decided to pay our bill. We were beginning to get the sense that the people in Wright were the nicest in the world.
From time to time, Danny would come over to chat with our table. He was Hank's partner, and an off-duty cook filling in as manager while Hank was out of town. He wouldn't stand for us camping, and insisted that we stay in his house behind the bar. Before following his heart to Wyoming, Danny was an interior designer with celebrity clients, so the house was beautiful and comfortable. We cleaned ourselves up—Mike downright pampered himself—and stayed up being merry. We had to wait for a tire, so we slept in, and watched a movie in the morning. Here we are with Danny.
We didn't have time left to ride to Casper, so we stopped halfway in Edgerton. The bartender seemed suspicious of us because of our "fucking insan[ity]," but she warmed up to us.
Next day we got to Casper, which was a bigger city than we expected. We went to a few bike shops, and Mike talked to a guy from the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks, who got us dinner at the Elk's lodge.
We left toward Shoshoni, to ride the first century of the trip, and Lee's first century ever. We stopped to check out Hell's Half Acre.
In Shoshoni we met a group of Mennonite bike tourists trying to get across the US in less than 5 weeks. We also took our dinner to a saloon, which wasn't as rowdy as the name implied. In fact, we were the only customers, and the bartender was a nice older woman who used to be a computer programmer. On the way into Shoshoni we caught a glimpse of the Rockies.
And we found this mysterious graffiti.
By the way, I've been texting my mom our location every night, and she has been posting it to this map. You may notice that we dipped south in Wyoming, which we did because we originally planned to ride to Teton National Park and ride north into Yellowstone. But instead we went to Thermopolis and Cody and came into Yellowstone from the east. The ride into Thermopolis went by Boysen Reservoir.
And then we rode through the beautiful Wind River Canyon.
We bathed in the hot springs in Thermopolis, checked out the state park, got Mexican food, and eventually tried to find a place to sleep. That actually turned out to be difficult, and we headed toward *shudder* paid camping, which we hadn't used since Algonac, Michigan. But I got a flat tire, and Mike decided to go to the nearby bar to see if anyone had an idea for camping. Instead, Tits and Ass offered us a place in their house. Ass had had a bad experience hosting cyclists once before, but sensing that we were decent people, they agreed to host us, so long as we put the toilet seat down. Although we filled their lesbian home with the aroma of male, we paid them back with a good back cracking.
We rode to Cody, the last town before Yellowstone. We met Dave and Valerie, a young tandem team riding into Yellowstone, and decided to ride with them. Dave, Valerie, Lee, and I went to the rodeo, while Mike got a motel to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Then Dave and Valerie found Ryan and Santi, also riding into Yellowstone the next day, so we had a group of 7!
We left a bit late, and got used to riding together, and had some flat tires (Mike got a double double double—a snakebite on both wheels, twice), and the first campsite that allowed tent camping was well into Yellowstone. So we stopped outside of the park. We all became friends, shared our food, and ended up riding together for a few days.
The ride into Yellowstone was rainy. In fact, it was the first good soaking that any of us besides Ryan and Santi had gotten all trip. We dried up in Buffalo Bill's hunting lodge, where we had a second breakfast, and then fresh chili at 11 a.m. We assume it was fresh, anyway, since we weren't allowed to order it until 11, to the minute. We set back out, entered the park, and as we started up the first mountain pass, it rained again. But at the top, we got to a lake, the sun came out, and we saw the snow-capped peaks and flowers and shit. What a magnificent sight!
Yellowstone is pretty much the best place. That first day we saw bison, elk, and moose. And every hiker/biker campsite we stayed in had friendly tourists.
We went to the West Thumb geyser basin. Look at those colors!
We crossed the continental divide a couple times. This lake drains into both oceans.
Here it is:
But the better geyser experience came later that evening. We watched the sunset through the steam of the spasm geyser. The picture is nice, but it doesn't do it justice. The steam made the disc of the sun visible, and there were illuminated clouds and mountains all around. It may have been the best sunset I've seen.
We hiked up Purple Mountain.
And went to the Artist Paint Pots.
Check out Closed Due to Flying Hot Mud, the debut album from Flying Hot Mud.
We all went to the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, but only Mike went back for the sunrise.
Hey, that's a tall mountain we biked, then hiked up.
It was covered with all sorts of wildflowers.
By that point, Mike's tire was worn so thin that he found a car ride out of Yellowstone. While he went ahead to Bozeman, Lee and I rode to our last Yellowstone campsite. We had a pretty and speedy descent to Tower Falls—6 miles at a 7% grade. We continued into the late afternoon and evening, and saw more wildlife. A bunch of cars were stopped in the road, so we followed their gaze toward a black bear. We passed the cars, and just a little further up the road, we turned a corner, and a wolf was in the road, less than 100 feet away! People use telescopes to see wolves miles away, so we were lucky to see it so close. We were also lucky that he ran away when he saw us.
We left Yellowstone early the next morning. I wish I could have spent a few weeks there—I will return another time.
As we rode, Mike called us to let us know that we had a place to stay in Bozeman. I am here blogging from Bill's apartment. He is a 50-year-old skateboarder and artist, father and bachelor, and an awesome dude. We are leaving now to see him skating in the parade.
P.S. Don't touch Lee's iPod.
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