Day 11: Weds 6/29: 72 mi: 6083’ climbing

I’m far into Wyoming now, having passed the unmarked border sometime yesterday as I came over the north side of the Tetons from Idaho to the west.  This morning I was in the road a little after 7, having taken the time to make coffee and flush the tubes real well.  Even rolling on pavement I could feel the past few days hard pedaling, my legs lacking any sort of sleep refreshed zippiness.  Heading south along the main Teton stretch, stopping at the Moran Post Office to mail postcards, then turning East and following the Buffalo River up and up, the whole way I kept glancing back West at the towering Tetons, who looked even mightier with the morning sun shining on their Eastern faces.  Behind and above them seemed to be a dark wall of early morning thunderstorms, being held back only by the Tetons sheer height and size.  Good.  Keep those storms over there.

The air yesterday started to change, and I noticed it again this morning.  Humid, thick, rich with the sounds of insects yelling at each other and the rustling of the much more common aspen leaves.  It  made me sweatier than usual.

Today was pretty much all just climbing it seemed.  Gently up the Buffalo River valley, then steeply climbing gravel then two-track up to Togwotee Lodge, along the way seeing two fresh piles of bear scat, then another climb on the highway for a total of over 2500’ to gain Togwotee Pass at around 9600’, crossing the Continental Divide along the way.  To the east I caught the first glimpses of the Wind River Range, which would be punishing my legs later today and tomorrow.  The sky was dotted with clouds, which kept the temperatures warm pleasant but always had me keeping one eye on those dark and ominous ones.

Rather than descend down the other side of the pass, we veered north onto a narrow two-track towards Brook Lake.  While the first few miles were absolutely crap with more climbing and an absolutely destroyed road bed (absolute mayhem was frozen in time by that mud… so glad I didn’t come this way then) it improved with distance and ultimately turned into an absolutely beautiful sort of mountain cirque, tucked in where you’d never see it from the adjacent highway.  After the lake, the road opened up and I screamed down, continuing the fast descent once the route rejoined the highway, reaching 35+ mph as I raced downwards.  

Miles gone in a manner of minutes, I pulled up to Lava Mountain Resort, where we had stayed as a family with the Engebretsons on our way to the Tetons a few years ago.  Walking in at 1:30, Brent was the only other person present, having gotten there about 10 minutes before me.  I ordered a large pizza.  I ate 3/4 of the large pizza.  I then wrapped the last two slices in foil and shoved them in my camelback backpack… breakfast?!

We emerged from the resort a little before three, and while I wrestled one last bowel movement out of me Brent pushed onwards.  I followed shortly after, staring right into a wall of rain that inevitably seemed to be in my way.  Luckily, the route turned just before the distinct wall of wetness and immediately started climbing once again.  I immediately regretted eating all that pizza.  Slowly, with gross burps and lots of rests, I made it up the 1300’ climb.  Being this high, almost back to 9k, my asthma and COVID hacked lungs were having a hard go.  But slowly and surely I made it up.

Then descended into the next valley.  Then ascended another few hundred feet to gain the next ridge.  Then descend into the next valley.  Then ascend again.  From the top of this last ridge I could see Union Peak towering above to the south east.  When I was a high schooler, 17 at the time, I did a NOLS course for 28 days in the Winds and my small student group summoned Union Peak to watch the sunrise.  

One last descent and just across the river bridge at the bottom is the campground we had aimed for.  Recently improved, and not indicated in the maps or apps, it was a bonus to find bear boxes and a pooper that even is stocked with TP.  Fancy pants camping!  

After chatting with Sarah (because 3G is still a thing?) I dunked my butt in the ice cold river, which felt glorious on my man bits, and washed my salt encrusted jersey, feeling bad for contaminating the river with my filth.  But at least it was hard earned filth.  The wind is blowing strong, keeping the bugs away, and the intense sun will soon set behind the river valley wall.  I’m am tired.  And I are so much pizza I might not even make dinner… but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here… it’s only 6:45 pm.

I should probably take care of my bike.  It still has mid crusted on it from days ago.  And I noticed last evening that my front wheel has earned itself a wobble, probably from a hard smack while racing down a descent.  Maybe I’ll try to true it up.  Or at least give the drive train a good cleaning.  Or maybe I’ll just fall asleep right here?