As I mentioned at the end of yesterday's rest day post, the weather for today's 135 mile route from West Yellowstone, Montana to Jackson Wyoming via Idaho was looking like it may be daunting. It did not disappoint, which is the explanation for the dearth of photos in today's post: the effort of getting the camera out from under multiple layers with bulky gloves quickly discouraged capturing the moment.
The temperature at the start of the ride was a bit over 40 and it was dry but windy. After 1/2 hour it had started to spit rain that felt cold enough to be sleet. After a short climb to Targhee Pass, I left Montana
and entered Idaho (no sign was there, but I found this picture on the web for what was there in summer 2016).
Before I reached the bottom of the descent to the valley floor carved by Henry's Fork of the Snake River, the rain started coming down hard driven by a 20mph headwind. It was still 41°. The wheels started shooting up "rooster tails" from the water on the road. This is when a cyclist goes from being wet to being drenched.
I was one of the first riders to reach the first rest stop at mile 25. With numb feet and hands in a downpour. Contrary to recommendations I had not packed water proof clothing although I had on a wool jersey, wool glove liners, fleece leggings and wool cap. Over that was layered normal long-sleaved Lycra cycling wear. As I struggled to remove my soaked gloves and liners, Lon H (tour organizer) took a look at me and said that my outfit wasn't doing me any good. He then pulled out a long sleeve semi-waterproof jacket from the trailer stash and told me to put it on. Lon started up his crew-cab pickup truck and turned up the heater. As I took refuge there to warm up with a cup of hot cocoa two other riders arrived, jumped the truck and stated they were through for the day! Their thought process ran along the lines of hypothermia and potential for illness. Mine didn't; it seemed like if I kept generating heat by pedaling I'd be uncomfortable but OK.
By the time I reached the second rest stop 22 solo miles later, the rain had stopped but the temperature had dropped to 40° and the headwind was stronger than ever. The chill had moved up from my feet to my legs and even the lower abdomen. This was getting beyond the chill of my winter rides at home where numb hands and feet are fairly frequent. I was starting to doubt my philosophy of pedaling being a sufficient source of heat.
At any rate, after a session warming up in the minivan, adding hand warmers to gloves and socks, and being loaned a pair of shoe covers, I was ready to head out again. Micheline M had arrived at the rest stop by then and we set off together as a two-person pace line. It wasn't too long after that the temperature rose to the mid 40's and we went down into the Warm River valley which gave us the first real protection from the head winds. As I descended I surprised a bear cub in the middle of the road just before Bear Gulch - its rare that a street name is so appropriate! The lack of wind didn't last long as we were soon riding through flat potato and alfalfa farms, but the shift was enough to thaw the hands and feet.
Micheline and I rode together to the lunch stop at mile 75 and once again experienced the chill that quickly sets in when you stop moving and have wet clothes on. Susan N, another tour organizer supplied latex gloves to put on under our wet ones. Micheline's wet feet had been bothering her so she improvised an alternative use:
After hot bean soup and hot cocoa and another warm-up session in the
minivan, we set off on the gradual climb toward south Teton Pass. At the
top of one of the many rollers I stopped and fished out my phone to
take these, the first is looking southeast, the second west.
The possibility of getting caught under a cloud burst was certainly in the air. The original route plan was to have two rest stops after lunch: at 93 miles and 110 miles. Since so many riders had decided to quit, the tour vehicles were occupied carting them into Jackson and they decided to cancel the service at mile 93. Which was OK because there was a general store at about the same location, so we could resupply ourselves. A couple miles before the final rest stop the sky opened up and we received a fresh drenching.
When we arrived at the 110 mile rest stop,
we were told that the rest of the ride was being cancelled and we were going to be sagged in from there. The miles from 110 to 135 were by far the toughest of the day as it involved a 2200' climb with grades as steep as 12%. So it was a mixed sense of relief and disappointment that we could not continue the very immoderate activities of the day. We pressed Stop on our bike computers and started waiting for a vehicle to take us into Jackson. Here are some of the "survivors" chilling out (literally) during the wait.
After an hour and a half wait, the van arrived. Some of us waited out of the wind while bikes were loaded, etc.
By then the number of folks needing to get to Jackson had increased to 18 to fit into one 11 passenger van and a 4 seater minivan. Of course we squeezed in:
The overloaded van ride over the pass was as harrowing as anything else had been that day, and after seeing the traffic, lack of shoulders and road condition I was glad that we'd been forced to skip the experience.
Here is the tour end-of-day progress map:
