Day 76 - 8/22/16 West Yellowstone to Ennis, MT

My first impressions of Montana compared to Wyoming are night and day.  I was confronted by a treacherous storm and opposing winds in barren grasslands in Wyoming while I've been warmly embraced by beautiful mountains and lakes with terrific tailwinds giving me that magic roll here in Montana.  

My God, the first 20 miles of today's ride wound me through the most beautiful scenery; around every bend was more mountains and more water.  At one point there were skeletons of old trees still standing in the lake with dozens of black birds perched in their branches like some species that has overtaken an abandoned city.  

I rode the rest of the 40 miles under gray skies, no doubt from a not-so-far-off forest fire; it cast the surrounding mountains in a haze, making them barely visible at times, like they were under a thin sheet of silk.  I rolled effortlessly for miles with the wind on my back.  At one stretch of no-pedaling the road was covered in crickets.  

They all sprung off the ground in wild, unpredictable directions when I rode by.  I could feel them bouncing of my bike and my bare legs.  At one point I looked down to see one on my right shoe, one on my right leg and another on my left like they were hitchhikers looking to be taken away out West like little brown Kerouacs.  It would've been nice if one of them stayed but, I got to Ennis all by myself.  

This is a small little town surrounded by rivers, clearly a fisherman's haven with more tackle shops than anything else in town.  It will be nice to stay in the park, wake up with an actual bathroom nearby and have some electricity.  I just hope no one bothers me here.

Day 74 - 8/20/16 Lewis Lake Campground to Goose Lake, Yellowstone National Park

I don't always find time to write at the end of each day, some things take higher priority like, eating and sleeping.  So here I am in my tent, another chilly morning in Yellowstone on the edge of Goose Lake in what's considered the 'backcountry'.  A wrong turn brought me to this situation. 

I was aiming for a short ride along Yellowstone Lake to a campground over there but, I wasn't paying attention where the road split and ended up miles in the wrong direction before I realized.  So I ended up at Old Faithful, the biggest draw for tourism in this park; there was a whole complex of hotels and restaurants and gift shops just in this one area.  Yellowstone is probably the most visited national park and this is the hub of it all.  Get me out.  

But the closest campground was about 20 miles away, something I didn't want to attempt at 5:00pm when it would start to get real cold by the time I got there.  So, talking to the ranger at the nearest station trying to find out if there's any other options, I learn there is, and I also learn there's a forest fire going on up near the campground that's 20 miles away.  

He didn't seem too phased about it, he was trying pretty hard to convince his coworker to go out for drinks with him.  He said I shouldn't worry about the fire, 'the winds are blowing North and won't affect you,' said the ranger that looked like Jack Frost from one of those stop-motion Christmas movies from the 60's with his long white hair and soul patch beneath his lip.  Since I didn't want to ride the 20 miles, he told me of a backcountry site only 8 miles away.  

So he quickly filled out the permit for me, sent me on my way and went back to trying to get this girl to go out on a date, briefly mentioning I'd have to hang my food up to keep it away from bears.  So I headed off to flaming bear country and got here around 6:30, just in time to set up camp, eat, purift some water from the lake, dig some holes to shit in and hang my food before the temperature dropped too low.  

I couldn't be more thankful for making that wrong turn.  Everywhere I've gone in this park so far is filled with people, whether on the road or at the campsites or at any of the overlooks along the park, you just can't get away from people; except in the backcountry.  It's just me here, this whole lake to myself, all the colors and smells and sounds are just for me; the rich scent of pine mixed with the distant fire,

 

the rose quartz clouds slowly fading and the earth turning dark green and ochre, whatever birds making whatever kind of noises they make and the wolves out in the distance howling for the moon.  You don't get this in a campground with 80 something sites with water and electric hookups.  You don't get the sense that you're out in nature there.  

Not like this.  Before last night I felt like I didn't get to see a lot of Yellowstone; the view from the main road doesn't reveal all the spectacular views you want, I think you need to take to the trails for that, something I just didn't have the time or energy to do.  But camping on this lake all to myself gave me a great intimate viewing of the land so beautiful it became the first National Park.

Day 64 - 8/10/16 Custer, SD to Newcastle, WY

It wasn't hard to find a service road that led right into Black Hills National Forest.  It's funny how many campgrounds I passed in this area when it's no big secret that National Forests are fair game for free camping.  Sure, there's no modern amenities but, for me, it's all I need.  Back on the main road my ride started by going downhill quite a bit.  I hate to complain about going downhill but, so early in the morning it was like taking a cold shower.  It certainly woke me up.  

Another beautiful ride filled with long hills and lots of switchbacks through the outer edge of the Black Hills brought me into Wyoming.  This is the 9th state on my journey which is kind of nuts.  

If I were home, I would be having that end-of-summer anxiety where work starts to get busy again and the warm weather is starting to turn cold and thoughts of that dreaded "W" word start to brew in the ol' brain.  But I'm not home.  I feel like summer hasn't even started yet.  Summer for me will be when I get to warm, sunny California.