Bozeman Redux

Cycle Greater Yellowstone, Day 7: Ennis-Bozeman

This was our coldest morning yet; the weather app on my phone said 27F when I woke up. Without a dining tent, we found the breakfast tables coated with frost. [Have I mentioned that I'm really glad not to have been camping?] My hands are chapped from so much washing and cold-weather exposure, though that's actually a good thing—the organizers have been emphatic about hygiene, to keep us all healthy.

Pro tip: Cover your bicycle saddle with a plastic bag overnight; you'll start the day with a nice, dry saddle. Or in this case, a frost-free one.

Even though today's route would be our shortest, we were encouraged to get an early start. Headmistress Jennifer had negotiated a deal with the highway patrol to have a presence along a stretch of Highway 84 that passes through a scenic (curvy, narrow) canyon.

To get there, we first needed to ride again on Highway 287. The ride was less hair-raising than yesterday's, but we were also on the road at an early morning hour.

At mile eight, we started a four-mile climb. Along the way, a roadside sign educated us about this route: “The road over Norris Hill already existed when it was used in 1864 as an extension of the Bozeman Trail from Bozeman and the Gallatin Valley to Virginia City.”

Once I reached the top, I chose to fly down the other side. The traffic-moderated canyon was five miles ahead at Norris, and I wanted to be sure of getting through it peacefully. With no headwind to fight, I achieved a top speed of 49 mph. [I passed a few riders.]

In the canyon, traffic was slowed by our own support vehicles as well as the highway patrol. It was a lovely ride.

Having left the Madison River in Ennis, we found it again as we rode through the canyon.

I was surprised to see a small flock of white pelicans floating with the current, conserving energy. As I watched the river flow at our rest stop, I also spotted two round furballs (one large, one small) floating along—beavers, most likely.

Closer to town, there was one steep-ish pitch to climb, much to the dismay of many tired riders.

We finished at the headquarters for the Greater Yellowstone Coalition, a familiar sight for me by now (due to its proximity to the Gallagator Linear Trail). Our shortest day of riding, 59 miles with 2,240 feet of climbing.

The end was ... anti-climactic. Lunch was a barbecue, but the promised “ice cream bar, with all the fixings” turned out to be individual frozen cups and some chocolate syrup. [I rectified that later, with three scoops of locally-churned huckleberry ice cream after dinner.]

Riders gathered up their stuff and scattered; only a few packed their own bikes. I found my box—already labeled for the return trip—and set to work disassembling and packing.

Now that it was done, what did I think of Cycle Greater Yellowstone?

I'm glad I did the ride; how, otherwise, would I know that I could?

The route is different each year, and some folks return again and again—I don't expect to be one of them. For me, there was too much riding on highways; the stress interfered with my enjoyment of the scenery.

I also think the event is best suited to those who camp. Camp-based activities, like yoga and musical performances, were too hard for non-campers to take in, what with limited support for shuttling between camp and hotel. Camp was, obviously, the social center; not being there also meant fewer opportunities to get to know fellow riders.

The biggest surprise for me was that, throughout the ride, I never felt tired. Or sore. I expected that I would collapse early each night, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but that was not the case. Not being sore meant that I was in good enough shape. Not being tired, someone told me, meant that I was eating enough. [Eat to bike, bike to eat.] Nonetheless, I dropped a pound—despite the enormous cinnamon bun I had for breakfast one morning. Evidently my body was sufficiently tuned to burn some reserves of fat, which I was most happy to put to good use.

My stats for seven straight days pedaling around in southwestern Montana: 519 miles, 18,865 feet of climbing, and about 15,515 kcal burned. Amazing what the body can do.