Tetons, Idaho, and Montana: we broke 2000 miles! Great Divide Day 29-35

Day 29: Raspberry Creek to Togwotee Lodge, WY

49 miles; 4,058 ft of elevation gain

We woke up in our peaceful creek side camp without any urgency, sleeping until after 8 AM. Since we were ending the day at another campsite (the plan was Turpin campground) instead of racing to a town, there was no reason to rush. After filtering fresh water from Raspberry Creek, we rolled out around 10 AM. Uri and I got a head start on Casey this morning while she hung around camp a little longer.

The riding was spectacular from the very beginning. We followed beautiful double-track roads winding through meadows popping with wildflowers. Lupines coated the roadside and blanketed the forest grounds in brilliant purple, while the Wind River Range stretched across the horizon to our right and the Tetons slowly came into view on our left. The air itself was strongly aromatic with the scent of flowers. This was one of the most beautiful roads of the entire trip so far.

Because Casey started later, she ended up on a bit of a different route, following the ACA alternate with DJ and Triss, a brother and sister from California. Their route, unknowingly to Casey, added about 10 miles and another 1,000 feet of climbing. Comparatively, Uri and I stayed on the Tour Divide route.

We coasted downhill to Lava Mountain Lodge, hoping for fresh food, only to discover the restaurant kitchen had been closed that day. We settled for cold drinks and charged our devices, meeting up with Casey, Triss, and DJ about an hour later.

Rather than following the official Divide for another long, uphill gravel section, we all chose the ACA pavement route to make it to Togwotee Mountain Lodge a little earlier. We wanted to meet Casey's parents, Carrie and John, who were driving all the way from New York to spend time with us.

On our long pavement uphill after Lava Mtn Lodge, a very brief sprinkle was the only time during this entire trip that we were truly caught riding in the rain. But it was so brief that we didn’t even put rain jackets on before the clouds passed. Then, we zoomed downhill for many, many glorious smooth miles. Our little pack of 5 in a beautiful coordinated flow.

By evening, Carrie and John had arrived. We shared dinner together at the lodge (thank you!!) before they also surprised us with a cabin for the night (!!!) And somehow we again avoided a heavy downpour at night. As the rain pounded the roof, we climbed into warm beds feeling unbelievably cozy and dry.

Day 30: Togwotee to Grand Teton National Park

48.5 miles; 1,765 ft of gain

Carrie and John treated us to breakfast at Togwotee Lodge before we finally rolled out around 10 AM. Hot coffee and eggs with vegetables soaked into my body like a sponge, desperate for nutrients. I felt so full and nourished with real food. After an evening with a hot shower and a bed, I started biking today feeling unstoppable. And happy. Very happy.

The day began with an incredibly enjoyable descent. We flew down gravel double-track surrounded by colorful wildflowers, passing Turpin Meadow Ranch before reconnecting with pavement. I’ve been keeping an eye out for Ryan Van Duzer, the famous cycling YouTuber riding the divide SOBO. I highly suspect he was sitting in the chairs at the ranch as we exchanged waves, though we didn’t stop to chat unfortunately. The rest of the ride flowed easily, with gentle climbs, long descents, and spectacular scenery that kept our spirits high.

Eventually, we entered Grand Teton National Park.

The mountains and their jagged peaks towered above the forests and lakes. Every turn was stunning! And we slowly made our way around the backside of the mountains, getting to see the gorgeous views from all angles. A very welcomed break from the endless sagebrush landscapes.

We briefly stopped at Colter Bay for snacks before continuing to our campground in the forest. Carrie and John would meet us at the campsite, holding a spot for us as many cars and vans pulled in and out, looking to snag a free spot in the first-come-first-serve region.

As we biked near the campsite, we entered an area where much of the surrounding forest had been burned in previous wildfires. This lasted for many miles, including the area where we would be sleeping tonight. After setting up our tents in the grassy area, Casey and I took a quick dip in the chilly stream to rinse off. It wasn't exactly a shower, but it felt wonderful after another day on the bike.

That evening, the five of us (including Casey’s parents) went out to dinner at the lodge nearby. Carrie snuck away to alert the waiter about my birthday and surprised me with an early birthday dessert! The waiter appeared carrying a delicious s'mores cake topped with candles. It was completely unexpected and such a thoughtful surprise. Thank you so much!

Saying goodbye to Carrie and John afterward was hard. Their generosity over the past two days meant so much. It particularly made Casey feel extra homesick, this evening and for the following few days— a brief reminder and oasis of comfort in our difficult journey.

The evening ended with a spectacular sunset and golden hour over our tents. A few noisy RV generators hummed, but eventually everything quieted, leaving us with a peaceful night beneath the Tetons.

Day 31: Grand Teton National Park to Island Park

77.8 miles; 3,537 ft of gain

The morning began along Grassy Lake Road, where more countless dead trees from the wildfires continued. Despite the burned forest, the gravel riding was smooth and peaceful.

Not long into the day we crossed into Idaho! The state line with the modest Idaho sign came with a long, gradual descent through quiet forests before another steady climb carried us back uphill. Strange flowers that I had never seen before reminded me of Dr. Seuss’s the Lorax— giant puffy Q-tip looking white flowers all over the hillsides.

During the afternoon, we followed an old railroad grade that many cyclists choose to avoid because of the soft sand. It was odd to me to avoid this section, especially in comparison to so many other shitty riding terrains we had to endure. But, we loved this section. The double-track wound gently through forests with a river flowing beside us. Folks swam and tubed lazily downstream while we rode upstream.

One highlight came as we passed a beautiful wetland that reminded us of the Adirondacks in New York. Lily pad-like plants covered the water, and we heard someone loudly munching on celery. A beaver was chewing on stalks of vegetation, before dolphin-diving beneath the water. So cool!

By evening we reached Island Park. We sat down briefly at the restaurant before noticing that a nearby grocery store, that promised fresh food, was about to close. So, we abandoned our restaurant plans for greener grass. But unfortunately, the food there was disappointing and there wasn’t a fresh produce in sight. We ended up settling for frozen pot pies and more expensive convenience store food. Our bodies were craving healthy food, and we left feeling unsatisfied.

After our sad dinner, we pushed several more miles into the forest to camp for free, putting ourselves closer to coffee and breakfast the following morning. Mentally, it was difficult to keep riding, but the peaceful campsite among the trees made it worthwhile.

Day 32: Island Park to Lima

92.9 miles; 3,268 ft of gain

The alarm went off once again and my first thought was This is fucking Groundhog Day.

Bike. Eat. Sleep. Bike. Eat. Sleep. The routine had become a grind. A proper full time job.

Our first stop was Island Park Lodge next to Sam Patch Co Grocery. We finally found real breakfast! Between fresh fruit, yogurt, other groceries, and free coffee from the Island Park Lodge next door, we lingered until nearly 10:30 AM, enjoying actual food instead of packaged snacks.

The riding that followed was beautiful. Soft double-track covered with pine needles wound through forests. Then we crossed into Montana! A snack break and Uri singing part of the Montana state anthem was our mini celebration.

The landscape gradually became more open, with long straight roads stretching toward distant mountains speckled with pink wildflowers. The road passed us by lakes and rivers that shimmered nearby and in the distance.

On the route, we met a cyclist from New Zealand riding southbound who excitedly (and nervously) told us he had biked upon a wolf attempting to catch a mountain goat in Canada. After a short standoff, the wolf was the one who fled while the goat, with audacity, stomped and was gearing up to charge him. Even though he had saved the goat!

Later, we watched a badger chasing a prairie dog across the sagebrush (very Nat Geo), and earlier in the day, a fox darted across the road. An exciting day for wildlife!

By evening, we reached Lima and ate “dinner” at the Sinclair gas station: slushees, packaged tuna, chips… garbage.

Then, we moseyed to the local park where you can camp for free. We knew the sprinklers turned on at 5 AM, so we tactfully pitched our tents in an area that we thought could be safe and crossed our fingers. TBD.

Day 33: Lima to Bannack, MT

80.8 miles; 3,471 ft of gain

Early morning train whistle shocked most of us awake in the 2 AM hour. At 5 AM, the sprinklers sprang to life exactly as promised. Uri and I quickly moved our stuff to a dry patch of ground outside the park while Casey simply rolled over and continued sleeping as the sprinklers soaked her tent. She was absolutely unbothered.

And, it was my birthday! 31 years to me!

Breakfast consisted of another stop at the gas station for shitty coffee before grabbing bagel sandwiches from a local café. Unfortunately, mine left me feeling nauseated for much of the morning— I sometimes gastric-ally struggle with bagels and tortillas, especially if they are store-bought and not homemade. It took an hour or two to stop almost throwing up.

The first 30 miles climbed steadily through a spectacular valley framed by steep rock walls and many rockslides. Looking at the elevation profile later, the day really was one giant triangle: all uphill, followed by all downhill.

Shade was also nonexistent. At lunchtime, we huddled beneath powerlines, making use of the very narrow strip of shadow while the wires buzzed overhead.

Physically, I wasn't doing well. My knee pain had become sharper and more concerning. Strange nerve pain radiated from my elbow into my shoulder and bicep, while another sharp pain shot from my inner ankle all the way to my glute on my right leg. I hoped it was simply overuse and would fade with some rest. Every day something new happened, and oftentimes the pain was fleeting and migrating. Tomorrow would be something new. Fingers crossed it was temporary.

The afternoon brought gentler climbing before a long descent toward Bannack where we would be staying in the state park. Bannack State Park used to be Montana's first territorial capital, founded after gold was discovered nearby in 1862. It eventually became a ghost town, and now dozens of original wooden buildings still stand very well preserved. We very briefly wandered the town and explored the old hotel. Definitely haunted.

Uri's parents, Irene and Fabian were waiting at the state park for us. And they were heroes! They had brought real food and picked up our REI order (including a new power bank, a bear bag, and Casey's replacement saddle). AND they had birthday cake!

After so much gas station food, eating fresh homemade food with family felt like the greatest birthday gift imaginable.

Day 34: Bannack to Butte, MT

103.8 miles; 4,281 ft of gain

We enjoyed a relaxed morning fueled by leftover birthday cake and donuts. We knew today would be a long day, but it was hard to leave the comforts of hot coffee and pastries! Uri’s parents treated us well on this overnight trip, and I had so much energy this day, never sugar bonking once.

The day began with a steady pavement climb over the Elkhorn Hot Springs area in Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest. The grade was reasonable, making the climb steady and very manageable, though it was long and started to get increasingly hot.

Halfway up, a man driving a convertible pulled onto the shoulder ahead of us. He walked over, subtly towing a paper bag. Casey and I glanced at each other, not knowing what was about to happen. Standing in front of me, he slowly reached into a paper bag, and pulled out…clementines! Phew, I briefly thought I was about to get shot. But Bob was a cool dude, wearing a Pink Floyd hat while listening to bossa nova music. He handed each of us fresh oranges along with little bottles of orange juice before wishing us luck and speeding off. It was another wonderfully random act of kindness that seems to happen only while traveling by bicycle.

Our original plan had been to take a “shortcut” into Butte on Frontage Rd for the Folk Festival. Casey still wanted to tackle Fleecer Ridge, one of the route's most notorious ascents/ descents, while I decided to skip it because of my worsening knee and nerve pain.

Unfortunately, our alternate route quickly turned into endless errors. Ride with GPS directed Uri and me over a barbed wire fence, which we awkwardly climbed over with our loaded bikes. Moments later, it instructed us to cross another fence directly into someone's cattle pasture. That felt like a terrible idea, so we backtracked, eventually riding several miles on the highway before piecing together quieter bike roads into Butte.

By that point, I honestly felt like the day would never end. Eventually, we finally rolled into our Warmshowers host's house around 9 PM. Casey would cross Fleecer and arrive around 10:30.

The place here was overflowing with cyclists.

About eleven riders were scattered and sleeping in all the house nooks: bedrooms, the garage, the porch, and tents in the yard. We reunited with DJ and Triss, the siblings we'd met days earlier, and settled into the wonderfully chaotic atmosphere. Noticeably, Casey, Triss, and I were the only women in this sea of men.

Our host, John Babcock, somehow managed to feed every single person. He had prepared huge pots of rice and beans with countless toppings, followed by pie and ice cream for dessert. John works as a hydrogeology consultant and has completed countless bike tours himself, speaking so highly of his time in Mexico. More importantly, he has built an incredible community by opening his home to bike travelers. I am continually in awe by how wonderful this community is, and John is so dang cool! I’m happy I was able to meet him.

For sleeping, Uri, Casey, and I joined the others on the yard, choosing to just sleep Cowboy camping style in the yard on our sleeping pads. No mosquitoes or rain tonight!

Day 35: Rest Day in Butte

Even though it was officially our rest day, it still started early. Nearly everyone staying at John's house was continuing on the route that morning, so the house, unfortunately, came alive before sunrise.

Since around 5 AM,John had been in the kitchen flipping blueberry pancakes nonstop while cyclists packed bags, filled bottles, and quietly slipped out the door one by one. We were still sleeping outside on the ground, slowly waking to the sounds of breakfast, bikepacking bustle, and one guy who had to take a phone call just 2 feet from where Uri was sleeping.

Eventually, we wandered inside for pancakes and coffee, lingering over breakfast as the last of the riders rolled away. Our original plan had been to spend the day at the Butte Folk Festival, which was the whole reason we had pushed such a huge day to reach town the night before. But by midmorning the temperature had already climbed into the 90s under a cloudless sky. We were sweating just sitting still, and the idea of biking four uphill miles into town (I know, a drop in a bucket but it was our REST day) to spend the day standing in the sun lost its appeal. I was sun fatigued just thinking about it.

Instead, we embraced the spirit of a true rest day. We stayed at the house, chatting with John and enjoying the luxury of having nowhere we needed to be. For lunch, we rode to Safeway, stocked up on groceries, and made an enormous chicken salad that tasted incredible. Finally, more nutrients!

That evening, John fried catfish for dinner, served with potatoes, carrot slaw, and “John Sauce”— an old bay-based sauce that was perfect on everything that was served. Another touring cyclist joined us for dinner: Ilona, who had biked to the tip of Argentina and back to Missoula, MT! An additional cycling pair from Canada, John and Jack, arrived later to camp in the backyard as well. What a revolving door this house was!

As always, the conversation drifted effortlessly between stories from the road (trail angels, weather, misadventures) and plans for the days ahead. Casey, Uri, and I even mapped out the remainder of the trip: July 24, our potential finishing day. 12 days from now. After 35 days on tour, 12 days felt both like a ton and so little. We will see if we are able to follow the plan, fingers crossed.

By nighttime, the house felt completely different than the day before. With nearly all of the other cyclists gone, we suddenly had our choice of beds instead of sleeping outside or squeezing into whatever corner was available. Considering there were at least ten beds scattered throughout the house, it felt pretty luxurious. The perfect way to recharge before setting off once again.