Jackson Loop Bicycle Tour
Jackson to Colter Bay, to Grants Village, to West Yellowstone, to Ashton, to Victor, over Teton Pass to Jackson
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Photos by Robin Perkins of the Jackson Junket
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Summary: This is a report about a self-contained bicycle tour of the Jackson Loop. From Jackson, Wyoming we peddled North to Grand Teton NP (National Park) and into Yellowstone NP. We rode out of Yellowstone via West Yellowstone, MT and into Idaho to Ashton - touring the more scenic and quieter route past Mesa Falls. From Ashton, we traveled to Tetonia, Driggs, and Victor before returning to Jackson over the Teton Pass.
Co-adventurers: with riders of the Wasatch Mountain Club: Carl Kunz, Carrie Clark, Cindy Crass, Cheryl Soshnik, Dave Rumbellow, Karen Baker-Jarvis, Kevin Earl, Lou Melini, Mark Shipman, Matt Davidson, Rob Jones, Rob Paull, Robin Perkins, & Rusty Gardner
cameras: Robin Perkins - Canon 60D; Rob - Panasonic DMC-DS19
Junket: an excursion, especially one made for pleasure at public expense by a public official or committee. Well, this is a cycling committee of sorts, yet we're traveling at our own expense.
Touron: One who tours without consideration for others (akin to moron with a "T").
Prelim: I drive to Smog Lake and meet Dave and Kevin. After loading three bikes on Kevin's vehicle, we drive to Alpine, WY to meet the group and camp before the tour. The next day (Day 1) we drive to Jackson and start the ride.
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Jackson Junket Photos Day 1 (by Rob)
 wjackson-bike-loop-2014-day1-1 Matt, Dave, Kevin load up.jpg |
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 wjackson-bike-loop-2014-day1-4 Katie, Carl, Dave enter Teton NP.jpg |
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Day 1: Moraine Meandering : Jackson, Wyoming to Colter Bay (Grand Teton NP; National Park) CG; 46 miles.
Curving, the sinuous bike path weaves past blooming Arrowleaf Balsamroots,
with a backdrop of the instant-mountain Tetons, abruptly cleaving from the glacier-scraped meadows and seeking
the sky. Glorious! Touring on the VM (Venerable Monster; Specialized Expedition Touring Bike; circa 1984)
once again, exploring some of what remains of our precious public lands. What's not to like?
Robin sprints ahead, then hoists his huge camera and shoots action shots as
we drift past him. Soon, I see him in my bike mirror, surging along the bike path, and then he's again ahead,
shooting more of the fine photos you see in this report.
It was snowing here last week, yet today the weather is lovely. Warm enough
that we are riding in shorts part of the day. Mountain views, lake vistas. I'm riding with other members of
the WMC (Wasatch Mountain Club). The route was scouted and the trip organized by Katie Slack and Rusty Gardner.
Thanks guys!
The group starts sort of together, with Rusty piloting us on side streets
through the busy burg of Jackson, then strings out over the rolling moraines, making for a more personal ride.
Over the course of the tour, I'd see only about half the group during the day (if that).
Lou, the Flying Melini, easily powers up the moraines despite the assortment
of baggage he has - some of which he is testing for an equipment report to appear in a cycling magazine. The
Flying Melini has a chair, a laptop (he plans to interview cyclists along the way), a carry-on cycling bag,
and lots of other stuff hidden away in those baggage bags. That, and his tent, stove, fuel, a menu of food,
etc. Rob P. presents the contrasting method to totting baggage. He has a relatively light load in two
unstuffed panniers and a small bag on his rack. Still, Rob has room for a tiny stove and the general touring gear.
Off the bike path and back on the road shoulder, Dave and I ride together
toward the monstrous crystalline Teton teeth, chatting about the here and now as we've done on a large number
of shared backpack trips. Life is good and the vistas gorgeous.
Fairly gentle is the ride today, and not much wind (yahoo). A lunch pause
at Moran overlook and then a bit of grazing at a general store before slipping into the Colter Bay group camp
area for another snack before dinner. The camp features a bear food storage shed larger than what many call home.
"It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle." - Ernest Hemingway, By-Line (book spans the period 1920-1956).
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Jackson Junket Photos Day 2 (by Rob)
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Day 2: Grants Grunt (with Teton Tourons) : Colter Bay to Grants CG (Yellowstone NP); 42.4 miles.
The streaks of white water are stretched through the cascades of the Lewis
River Gorge far below. I can occasionally hear the music of tumbling water, yet the sounds of nature, natural
quiet, are mostly obliterated by the cacophony of menacing mechanics zipping past dangerously close to my body
parts. Yikes. Teton Tourons? Akin to morons, yet with a "T?" Touring without thinking in their tin can
touron-mobiles. Since entering Yellowstone NP, the crowd of tin can tourists/tourons is beyond horrendous,
while the once reasonable road shoulder has disappeared. Many drive as if from texas. Selfish, inconsiderate,
dangerous, perhaps delusional (like the delusion people of republican states have that they contribute more
to the federal government than they receive - they do not, they are red state welfare queens). The states
that actually give more to the federal government than they get in return are all blue states (the top ten
are: New Jersey, Nevada, Connecticut, New Hampshire, Minnesota, Illinois, Delaware, California, New York,
& Colorado). Of course, tea-baggers never let science or data stand in their way of putting lies on top of
lies, then echoing it until it has unearned and fraudulent "credibility."
Riding the VM barge down to a crossing of the Snake River near Flagg
Ranch, my top speed is 36 MPH, fast given the well-loaded nature of the VM (total bike weight about 85-90 pounds).
A long and steep climb starts toward the Continental Divide and mosquitoes
mob us if we stop for a breather. Hey, they don't wait for us to stop, riding in low gear prompts squadrons
to attack. Eventually, we reach Lewis Falls for a late lunch. Delightful. From here, the rollers are not
low-low gear and we pass over the Divide in good time. The aroma of Lupines and distant rain arrives.
Coasting into Grants Village we find our camp reserved by Katie and Rusty, and far enough away from the
water that mosquitoes don't appear until late evening, and then in small squads. Warm and peaceful.
Add in trips to the shower (very nice) and the store and the total for the day is 42 miles.
"It never gets easier, you just go faster." - Greg LeMond.
Jackson Junket Photos Day 3 (by Rob)
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Day 3: Continental Breakfast : Grants CG to West Yellowstone, Montana; 52.5 miles.
The 35 MPH rolling free-fall levels, then climbs again. A second
crossing of the Continental Divide today, this time at Isa Lake, splitting water toward each ocean.
Argh, the Continental Divide has had me for breakfast.
Down and into the busy Old Faithful area, where I meet Henk from the
Netherlands (riding San Diego to Calgary) at the general store. Sandwich #1 is enjoyed sitting on the
store porch, washed down with a liter of mango and green tea. Yummy. Mindful of the blossoming thunderheads,
I head for Madison Junction. Hooray, a bit of tailwind and downhill along the Firehole River, and a smidge
more road shoulder too. Whiffs of sulfur and brimstone waft past - hints that another religious war has
started, take your pick of the US supreme court placing religion above personal rights and women's health
or the new islamic state reshaping what was once Iraq. When organized religion is involved, the outcome
is almost never (ever?) good.
At Madison Junction, I turn toward West Yellowstone - still gradually
downhill, this time along the Madison River, yet any downhill is negated by the up-river breeze. I saw
a few fellow riders at Old Faithful, yet I have been riding solo since then, and this continues to West
Yellowstone, MT.
I slip into the RV park in West to set up the tent prior to a spitting
drizzle and dinner at the taco bus with Rob Paull.
Jackson Junket Photos Day 4 (by Rob)
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 wjackson-bike-loop-2014-day4-8 Matt and Upper Mesa Falls.jpg |
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Day 4: Wind, Rain, & Fire : West Yellowstone, MT to Ashton, Idaho; 65.6 miles.
Long tendrils of steam condense in the cool morning air as rain
drums on the shower cap covering my helmet. Ick! It's raining softly as we pack up and roll toward
the hill to the Idaho line. Another (#4) crossing of the Continental Divide, this time at just over
7,000' (7,072'; Targhee Pass).
Matt and Mark puff up to the summit and express curiosity about
how many times we have crossed the Continental Divide on this junket. I'm guessing five, or is this
four? Certainly, I don't feel this crossing of the Divide has had me for breakfast.
Down toward Island Park - I see Sandhill Cranes dancing in the
meadow mist. It stops drizzling by Last Chance and some clothes come off. Relief.
Turning onto the Mesa Falls Road, Kevin, Matt, and I sail tents
tethered to the information signs to dry the drenched devils. Matt shares superb sandwiches of
tomatoes, avocados, cheese, and kippers as we sit in the info turn-out drying equipment and snacking.
Tremendous. The road rolls uphill and the wind, of course, is in our faces. (The Second Law of
Bicycling states "the wind is always in your face.")
The road to Upper Mesa Falls (114') is steep and I dread climbing
the mile back out as we thunder steeply downhill to near the top of the falls. A hard level of volcanic
talc, formed of fire, creates the falls. It's actually hot climbing back out to the main road. Then,
up and down and down to Warm River, where more climbing drains my energy. More wind cruises the open
fields into Ashton, followed by 0.7 miles of tailwind to the stop for tonight. The wind continues,
and the group uses it to dry sleeping bags, tents, etc. After a super feed, everything is dry and
the breeze dwindles into sunset.
Jackson Junket Photos Day 5 (by Rob)
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Day 5: 13 Dog Night, or A Day Without Sunscreen : Ashton, ID to Victor, ID; 47.1 miles.
After hours of pelting, drenching, and drizzling rain, Matt and I
coast into a tiny Tetonia gas station store with cold fingers and toes and craving something different.
Hot cocoa and a mini-pizza and some warm lounging and we're once again able to navigate the baggage
barges toward Victor.
Earlier, the pelting is increasing as I see Matt hunkered inside a
potato cellar turned junk haven. It looks dry, so I park the VM and squish down the hill to join Matt.
Cheryl and Karen slosh past, and I hear Cheryl singing something about "Oh, the soggy Selkirk..." (see
the links section for a report about the Soggy Selkirk bike tour.) Or, maybe this is my imagination?
Apparently undeterred by the interminable pounding rain, Katie and Carl
hustle into the mist, soon disappearing from sight.
We endure a bit more rain to Driggs, where we chat up some lovely local
women disassembling their stands in a farmers' market. Warming. Then, just out of Driggs, we see a bike
path and are on a paved and expertly graded (as opposed to the windy wet rollers from Ashton to Tetonia)
rail trail to Victor, passing the Big Spud Drive-In movie theater and shedding clothes in a gorgeous sunspot.
As we're entering the outskirts of Victor, Matt comments about the
infestation of expensive-looking houses. What's up with this, some type of banker summer home area,
courtesy of the bank bail-out we're funding, we wonder. Or, is it part of the billionaires squeezing
out the millionaires from Jackson (soon Victor, etc. like a rolling plague) and into surrounding
communities - like a toothpaste tube, the uber-rich are making it impossible for workers and even
the super-rich to live in places like Jackson. Certainly, this country is suffering the largest
transfer of wealth in the history of the world - with the once middle class being squished into poverty,
and virtually no chance for upward mobility for those not already rich. We muse about this, and enjoy
the delightful tour on the rail trail. Deluxe touring.
We seek shelter under the eaves of a bike shop in Victor and wait out
the next two blasts of rain. Fitzgerald of the bike shop invites us in and we chat about losing track
of time on tours. Fitzgerald talks about a tour from which he returned and wondered if it was August,
then wondered about the year..... Hey, it seems Fitzgerald the shop has also been squeezed out of Jackson
(to Victor).
Then, I spot Cheryl and Karen rolling their bikes into a garage across
the street and follow them. Here, I meet Deb Herman of Lone Wolf Services canine boarding and a few of
her four-footed friends. Deb graciously invites Matt and me out of the rain. Soon, we're showered and
it's raining margaritas. So much better than for a few of the group who could not find alternative lodging,
and are camped somewhere on an Idaho hillside. For us, it's a 13-dog night. Cheryl is accompanied by 4
or more doggies, while Deb all but disappears beneath a canine clump.
"Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving." - Albert Einstein
Jackson Junket Photos Day 6 (by Rob)
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Day 6: Passover : Victor, ID to Jackson, WY - over Teton Pass (8429'); 24.5 miles.
I awake with one cold and wet nose in my ear and another on my bare leg.
What? It's been a 13-dog night in Victor. Some of the doggies have been outside, and want to share their
experience with those of us inside. We have been surrounded by wonderfully socialized doggies of all types,
and no yappers. Cheryl, Karen, Matt and I are up early and trying to locate things spread out to dry and
then load up for passover, over the Teton Pass and back to Jackson, completing the Jackson Junket.
Grind, grind, grind, the lowest of the low gears is barely adequate for
this 10% grade climbing to the pass. I stop a couple of times to prevent wobbling off the side of the road.
Another rainstorm seems to be chasing us from the Idaho side, and this provides some impetus to keep going
rather than take more breathers and look for moose in the willows down below the road bed.
It's cool on top and the mammatus clouds brew darkly to the West. Time to
fly downhill. Rusty begins the plunge, rocketing beyond speeds safe given the gusting winds. Robin and Dave
are still at the pass, shooting photos and enjoying the accomplishment. Me, I ride my brakes more than I want,
and even so go over 35 MPH on the VM. Yikes, the wind gusts hit me from the side, from the front, threatening
carnage on the tarmac.
As the 10% grade eases, I ease onto a bike path and ride it to Wilson, where
I see Rusty explode into town from the main road. It's a fine day of sunny touring from here, slightly
downhill and downwind (imagine that?) to the crossing of the Snake River. Deluxe touring! A bit of
jostling with the tourons trying to get into Jackson before everyone else, and we're on another bike path
to where we parked the cars.
The group splinters and Kevin, Dave, and I head toward the land of smog
(Smog Lake), rendezvousing with Carrie and Cindy in Alpine. Cindy insists (despite earlier horrible ratings
by fellow bikers) we eat lunch at the Freedom Lies
shrine to sarah palin, part-time governor and full-time
quitter, a person who cannot pass an eighth grade civics test. The food is no better than the unreasoned
bias inherent in the trappings of the "freedom is when you say false things just so you can feel good about
being a dolt."
"Reality has a well-known liberal bias." - Stephen Colbert
This gastric distress side-trip is merely a sad footnote to an enjoyable Jackson Junket, filled with good cheer, camaraderie, and terrific scenery. 278 miles of touring the junket, some in rain, some in wind, some in sun, several times over the Continental Divide. Again, thanks to Katie and Rusty for the competent advance work. Tour on.
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More - More truth than joke - part 1
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