Wyoming: Mountains, Desert & National Parks

I'm in the high country now for sure, all of Wyoming is over 3,000 ft and if you pick the wrong road you can find yourself climbing for over 40km to a pass that's over 10,500 ft high! There are ways of avoiding the the highest passes, but to do so involves 100+ mile detours across dry, sparsely populated plains. The prospect of these had been on my mind since leaving Iowa, so now it was decision time!

Devil's tower, from the pine forest at its base

Trying to hit as many national parks & forests as possible, I first headed for devil's tower, solidified magma that stands proud of the surrounding plains. The park around it allows you walk all the way round and see the 5 climbers that were ascending that morning, of course i asked if i could join them, but apparently my cycling sandals were not suitable.





The other, less glamorous side of Wyoming is its mineral wealth, the ride into Gillette, the self proclaimed "Energy capital of America", was ugly, with 2km long trains of coal, big open cast mines and wrecked landscapes. the town itself was nothing to write home about either, and when you find that Super 8 rooms cost $109 a night, it's clearly doing well. Sadly not even the 2 pretty girls behind the desk could persuade me to part with that much money, so I was at the $25 campsite, with train horns waking me up all night.

On from Gillette to Sheridan and the base of the Big Horns, I stopped in Spotted Horse, on the map and even the Atlas, a village of population 2 - that'd be the barmaid and cook at the bar then. It obviously supports a wider community of farmers, but largely survives on the money the Sturgis Bike rally brings in over 2 weeks at the start of August. The roads this side of Wyoming traverse High Prairie, with plenty of deer, crazy fast antelope and hawks around, at one point almost every field (which are quite big) had a small herd in it.

4,500ft climbing in 14 miles - just a little "hill"

Heaven for a heavy cyclist

So there was nothing else for it but to attack the big horns - 5000 ft above the prairie, you climb most of it in one go, then descend back to the height you started, literally like having a brick wall between you and Yellowstone. Setting off early, I hit the climb at about 9am, to get onto the plateau I had to climb Cutler "Hill", 4,500ft of vertical climbing in 14 miles with a grade of 4-6%. the views were awesome, and obviously encouraged regular stops, where friendly bikers would again tell me that I'm crazy. On top it was pretty cold, I even got hit by a hailstorm, Art who'd come up the other way looked way tougher than me, he'd climbed 18 miles with his trailer hooked on behind and, in his 60s, was cycling from the west coast to visit his brother in Wisconsin, no idea if he also planned to cycle back afterwards. The reward for all the climbing was the 18 mile descent down Shell gorge, following the Shell river past tumbling falls, steep granite and other rock walls via twisting chicanes which I was much more suited to than the big, lumbering American cars.

Taking a break to admire the view on the long downhill

Rock Outcrops on the Big Horns

Rock formations in Shoshone National Forest

After the big horns it was a easy ride into Yellowstone, or so it should have been - 50 miles gradual climb to Cody was supposed to be a short half day to get some rest, instead it delivered my 2nd & 3rd punctures of the trip, too many beers (75 cent happy hour pints), bad food (you could only buy deep fried wings after 9pm) and a late night. So instead of attacking the climb to Yellowstone fresh and early, I started tired and late with a hangover and a dodgy belly... The first part of the climb, through Shoshone National Forest is supposed to have the most dense bear population in the world, but as I'd shelled out $21 on bear spray of course I saw nothing but trees and tarmac.






Finally I got to Yellowstone and with the help of a steak for lunch, the hangover had finally lifted, just in time for the scenery to become amazing. Climbing into the park took me over 8,500ft but, the views of the forest with snow capped peaks behind were amazing. The pass brought you in above Yellowstone lake and past the burnt out forests from a massive wildfire a couple of decades ago. Deer could be seen by the side of the road and I even caught a muskrat or beaver swimming across a creek.

Scenic views in Yellowstone park

Dealing with a Bison Jam on a bicycle - they're enormous!

With little over 2 hours before dusk, I decided to take on the 16 miles to Canyon, relatively flat, along the scenic Yellowstone river, it should have been a doddle, until I encountered my 1st and only Bison Jam - this really was something to get the adrenaline pumping, you quickly realise how vulnerable you are on a bike when a 200 strong herd of bison are all over the road, males charging each other 20 yards away and calves (with protective mothers) strewn everywhere. I dodged in and out of cars, using them like metal shields, but it still took me about 15 minutes to get through and sprint up the hill to get a view of the general carnage (adrenaline is useful for something). Fortunately I also had time to take in Yellowstone Falls and its colourful gorge, formed by millenia of volcanic activity

The rest of the park was awesome, but by Saturday (my 2nd day) the day tourists had arrived in vast numbers. I wasn't sure whether they'd come to see the geysers, buy souvenirs or check out the wildlife, which apparently included me! My favourites, were the lycra clad cyclists on a organised tour with their super light, unloaded, carbon bikes, high-fiving each other after their 1,000ft climb to Old Faithful - well done guys.

Blending in with the wildlife

Yellowstone's famous Geysers

 Anyway, it was all too much for me - time to head on into Montana. 3,000 miles done, around 100,000ft of climbing, next up the continental divide and ideally a long downhill to the Pacific ocean where I can finally shave off my beard which is beginning to scare me, especially the bugs it can pick up in a day's cycling!

South Dakota - Open Plains, Black Hills and Motorbikes

RAGBRAI people are awesome - Mike, Jacob and Chuck kindly relayed me right across the state of Iowa and delivered me onto the perfect road to continue west in South Dakota, there aren't many roads here either, I'd be on the SD44 for the next 3 days!

Chuck kindly gave me a lift into South Dakota after RAGBRAI and even held my bike for me!

South Dakota's Open roads

Best town ever

After 10 days of company and craziness on RAGBRAI, it took a couple of days to get used to the usual solitude of riding, Ash seem to be constant company as songs go through my head that I haven't listened to in 15 years. The first half of South Dakota is as flat and open as you could imagine, wheat replaces the corn of Iowa, but for mile after mile there's nothing but fields. Carrying enough water becomes a problem, 3-4 litres is sometimes not enough, so at any gas station you'd find me downing big cups of pop, fortunately something America does very well. There was no guarantee that a town on the atlas would actually be more than a house and a couple of people, so it was critical to find out if there was anywhere to get food or water ahead, some stretches were up to 70 miles of nothing. People don't just move around RVs around here, they also transport whole houses along the road, if these hit you head on, the wind would almost knock you off the bike, but being overtaken by one sucked you into the vacuum they created and dragged you along for about half a mile. I saw my first coast-to-coasters here too, I retired american guy and a Californian called Cirrus WALKING my route in reverse, that day I covered 129 miles but felt weak compared to Cirrus, who had 50 miles to walk before he'd next be able to get fresh water, but for him this was not unusual.


Some of the towns just needed tumbleweed to add to their run down appearance, in fact at one, the lovely named Scenic, where I had hoped to get some lunch, instead I found that the whole town was up for sale! No idea why anybody would want to buy it other than to host some sort of cult though, although it did have it's own wild west kind of charm.

Finally, approaching the Badlands NP, the land started to have a bit of relief to it, I never thought I'd be wishing for hills, but the strange thing was that I had been. 

Finally some relief instead of the flat plains

Badland NP in the early morning

The lure of the Badlands national park pushed me on to a new record day in the saddle, despite the hills, as I wanted to catch it at first light. The park is absolutely stunning, and really the pictures speak for themselves - an otherworldly landscape of rock formations and open plains with Prairie Dogs, long horn sheep and deer roaming freely. The native indian history adds to the appeal, and these areras are very special to them, especially those in the reservations that surround the National Park. The reservations are themselves quite sobering, the indians are relatively poor and there is very little visible of their culture left.

Not a toy, but a friendly prairie dog

With South Dakota came the threat of rattlers - I never saw one, but almost ran over a thin black & yellow stripped one

After the Badlands it was onto the Black Hills, where South Dakota appear to carve things into big rocks in the hope of attracting tourism... and it works especially at this time of year, as I arrived just as the Sturgis Motorcycle rally began - the biggest in the world, that must pull in tens of thousands of bikers from all over the world. Despite their scary appearance - Big, lumbering, tattooed guys in leather - the bikers were more friendly than you could imagine. They obviously thought I was completely crazy, but in reality they were doing much the same as me, meeting up with some buddies to tour the country, party and see the open road. They just don't just stay around Sturgis, it would take me 2 weeks and into Montana, before I lost the ever present noise of motorbike engines overtaking me.

An old railroad trail through the black hills

The black hills were busy, but I was shown a back route to get up into them avoiding the highway, what i wasn't told was that the back roads had grades of 15%+, that was a bit of a killer in the heat of the day. The hills themselves were stunning, but the roads were crazy and the towns, although they had some wild west charm, were largely tourist traps. I did find a gorgeous trail though, up an old railroad, away from the major roads - riding up it, alongside a creek at dusk I got covered in insects that made my whole front look black, when I arrived at the bar I was aiming for after dark, they thought I was "an alien" coming up the street, but still welcomed me in and let me pitch my tent in their yard. I thought the beard might help me fit in better, but compared to the mountain beard & hairstyles on show that night, I may as well have come straight from the office, clean shaven in my suit.

RAGBRAI - It's not about the bike

How to explain RAGBRAI to an outsider...

It's about 15,000 riders cycling through Iowa's cornfields, passing through tiny villages where nothing normally happens. It's enough to bankroll these communities for years. The whole thing is sponsored by Beer companies and escorted by the state patrol - it appears drinking & cycling are actively encouraged in IOWA. A friend of mine once described it as "you ride 10 miles, drink 3 beers, then repeat 7 times a day for 7 days". Cycling wise it's not too challenging at only 415 miles for the week, but RAGBRAI take a different type of stamina, as you certainly won't be getting much sleep.

Me & Kevin - the wig is borrowed from Team Spin, apparently they're not too pleased about that

This was my 2nd year at RAGBRAI, my friend Kevin dragged me out last year so I knew what to expect and was no longer a "Virgin". I'd also met most of Team Fish and it was good to catch up with everybody. The ride out was wild as always, a couple of stops meant we didn't roll in to the start town until 10pm. The team Fish bus, like many others, is a converted yellow school bus with bikes racked on the roof, bunks and facing benches inside. Add a couple of coolers of beers and it can all get a little crazy.

Most riders head out early, and aroun 7 & 8am the roads can be insanely busy - 7 or 8 riders across the road for as far as you can see, a long way on the straight roads. With people going at many different speeds and some unexperienced riders it can be dangerous and requires far too much concentraetion, food is laid on along the route, but queues can get long - 75m on the day we rode out early. Beer gardens are set up along the route, and each bar was doing a year's trade in a day. As the day moves on the roads thin out and pace lines start moving faster, beer gardens also have their inevitable effect until the state patrol (team Buzzkill) roll in and shut everything up to move people on and get them to the end town by 6pm. However, if you time it right or have enough patience, the bars repopen after about 40 mins and they might start giving food away. You can always understand where you stand on the day by how far ahead or behind the state patrol you are.

Rainbow drinking in Iowa

Most of the time I was some way behind the state patrol, particularly later in the day. Taking off-route shortcuts along trails, meant hitting some bars that weren't neccessarily expected us and very happy to have us fill their bars. In one, a game of flippy cup went on for 2 hours as the owner kept on refilling the 24 pack of beers (that initially cost $25) for free. Riding in at dusk on the first day, we played on a giant water slide then there was a stunning deep red sunset that made it all worthwhile.

Fish Virgin Heather scales the biggest bike in the World as the sun sets on Day 1



As the week continues, there is less time spent on the bike and more spent in bars, cornfields, grass verges, Caseys car parks, in fact anywhere that a group of friends can gather without being in the sun, which gets very hot. the cycling was generally ok, though tiredness plays a big factor. Being way too stubborn I refused to "sag" (take a ride) on any bus and probably missed a few crazy bus parties, but despite this the week created far too many stories and memories to describe here, you'll just have to come to Iowa and experience it for yourself another year. Our antics did manage to land us in "Jail" though, no charges though, clearly the english accent worked to explain it away.

Locked up in Iowa

Mr USA

As for now, I'm waiting on a lift west and keen to get started again. It's already been a big come down as everybody left, but it'll be very different riding alone instead of with 15,000 crazy people.