Paradise Valley

Cycle Greater Yellowstone, Day 2: Livingston-Bozeman

There were two options for today's ride: short or long. Long, or short? Decisions, decisions ...

The prudent course would be the direct return to Bozeman, about 35 miles, conserving energy for tomorrow's long route. So of course ... I went long.

One could think of it as two rides: a 50-mile morning ride through the Paradise Valley toward Emigrant, followed by a mere 35-mile ride in the afternoon.

We headed out of Livingston on a paved path paralleling the highway for several miles. A roadside sign cautioned drivers: Watch for Wildlife on Roadway Next 51 Miles. [Okie dokie.]

The on-course support for this ride has been above and beyond my experience. Two people were stationed at one spot to divert us around a large patch of broken glass on the shoulder. The turns are marked, and route marshals keep us on course at key intersections. This makes good sense, really, because a wayward rider could be challenging to locate given that cell phone coverage is spotty. I confess that I was gleeful when I crested a hill and found the road marked “steep grade”—but, you know, that's me.

Our out-and-back route to Emigrant would follow the same route, though Headmistress Jennifer thought we should stay on the highway for the last leg into Livingston rather than take our chances playing “Frogger” to get back on the bike path. (Traffic would be light enough, as it turned out, to cross back onto the path; a welcome respite from riding the fog line next to vehicles traveling at 70+ mph.)

Sadly, too much of the West is ablaze; haze hung heavy over the hills. I left a smoky Bay Area only to find myself in a smoky Montana valley.

We passed through the communities of Pine Creek and Pray, the former of which mostly survived a wildfire four years ago that burned nearly down to the road.

A few miles from the rest stop that would be our turning point, a guy caught up to me and then sat on my wheel. [Sigh.] Honestly, I don't create much of a draft. I had the last laugh, though, dropping him in short order as soon as I got a slight downhill boost.

I stopped briefly after making the u-turn near Emigrant and was startled by two loud thuds behind me. I turned to see a pair of stout mule deer (doe and offspring) dashing across the field.

The day was heating up by the time we made it back to Livingston for lunch. And here's the thing: Although the morning wasn't a flat route, the last 35 miles presented two-thirds of the climbing. [I prefer my climbs in the morning ...]

We baked in the afternoon sun riding the ups and downs of a frontage road heading due west along I-90. It was a long, gradual uphill into a miserably strong headwind. I began to doubt that I had the ability to keep going. SAG vans passed with bikes and riders aboard. When I reached the penultimate rest stop at Grizzly Encounter, I could not incur the delay to visit the bears. Here the route turned north, and I convinced myself this would offer a break from the wind.

Our final rest stop was a one-room schoolhouse on the National Register of Historic Places, the Lower Bridger School. The building dates to 1900, and was used until 1958. Some riders refilled their bottles at the old hand pump; I stepped inside and back in time, recognizing a style of desk that was still in use at the public school I attended through grade four. (These were in much better shape.)

Another rider warned me that we would face a steep hill before we were done. Was this it, I wondered, at the first little rise? Maybe it's this one, I thought, at the second uptick. Ah, no, here it is ... at mile 79, riders were paper-boying it up a 10% grade that lasted for a tad more than a quarter mile. Admittedly, it was tough after all those miles, and with the heat. At altitude.

I was proud to finish strong: 89 miles, with 3,310 feet of climbing. In the morning haze, I failed to start both apps to track my route, so for today I can share only this image:

The hotel lobby, with its trophy elk heads and Kodiak bear (native to Alaska), was a welcome sight. This time, with my bicycle for a stress-free start tomorrow morning—another long day on the saddle.