I stood up to get a better look at the whereabouts of the bison, hoping they weren’t headed my way. I was under a bridge in Yellowstone National Park trying to stay dry amidst a thunderstorm. The storm had been a surprise, absent from the day’s weather report. My partner Karl was napping while sitting up, his back against the cold concrete wall that held up the bridge above us, our temporary shelter.

I watched as the bison continued to graze a hundred yards away, seemingly unconcerned about the lightening strikes around us. Relieved that the bison weren’t currently heading our way, I sat back down to rest and reached into one of my bike bags. Time for yet another snack, this time a squashed croissant filled with Nutella, a last minute purchase before we’d pedaled into Yellowstone.

The morning prior we had set out on a 202-mile bike journey in Montana and Wyoming, but really this venture had started months before on a cold winter night in our Vermont home. We’d received an invitation from our friends to their wedding just outside of Red Lodge, Montana. Karl went to college in Bozeman, and I’ve been out a number of times on roadtrips and vacations to visit friends. As we sat beside our wood stove we dreamt about what sort of trip we could make this. We didn’t want another ‘drive around, look at pretty scenery, and do small hikes’ sort of trip. We were curious to see this landscape in a new way.

Karl pulled up Ride with GPS, an app designed for creating bike routes. It wasn’t long before we were both peering at the map, wondering if we really could fly into Bozeman and ride our bikes to the wedding. It appeared it could be done, and that we could get cabin rentals in Gardiner and Cooke City which would make this the glamping of bikepacking - no tent, cooking supplies, or sleeping bag needed. But it would require three ambitious days of 55-75 miles, each with 4,500-6,500 feet of elevation gain. The first day would require taking our gravel bikes on single track mountain bike trails. The second day would put us in Yellowstone National Park’s Lamar Valley, known for wildlife such as grizzly bears, bison, and wolves. The final day would be the crux of the journey, demanding 6,500 feet of climbing to reach an elevation of almost 11,000 feet to get up and over Beartooth Pass.

Despite these challenges there was no turning back once we were aware of the possibility. It didn’t matter that I’d never biked 50 miles in a day, let alone 75. It didn’t matter that we’d be taking on back to back big days at elevation with east coast lungs. 

We did what we could to prepare in the months leading up to the trip, cramming rides and gear research into the nooks and crannies of our everyday lives. We bought racks and panniers and did laps on the steepest trails around. We pieced together logistics and borrowed what we could from generous friends - a bike bag in Vermont, bear spray in Montana, a friend’s camper van to use after the wedding, and so on. Karl, a mechanical engineer, would take apart our bikes in Vermont and rebuild them at a friend’s place in Bozeman. In terms of clothing, a contact told me about Curious Creatures, a woman owned outdoor apparel company based in Bozeman. 

As I began to research the gear I discovered that Tasha, Curious Creatures' owner, grew up right here in Vermont, and that her clothing was made for adventures on the bike and also time spent off the bike such as in town grabbing food. Perfect - one shirt, one pair of shorts, and one pair of pants that could be worn for 200 miles of riding plus meals in town would mean less weight to carry.

Day one on our bikes took us 75 miles, from Bozeman to Gardiner, the northern entrance of Yellowstone. We set off from our friend’s place in downtown Bozeman, crossed Main Street to reach community trails, and soon found ourselves on single track in beautiful Bear Canyon. Wildfire smoke hung in the air, adding another element for our lungs to contend with. We descended into ranch country, where the going was dry and dusty, especially when a vehicle passed us. At last Paradise Valley and the Yellowstone River greeted us, luring us in for a break and a swim.

As we got closer to Yellowstone herds of pronghorn and elk crossed ahead of us, a reward for some difficult hike-a-bike sections. After 55 miles I started to fade, but made it the next 20 into Gardiner with Karl’s words of wisdom: eat more snacks. We found our cabin overlooking the river, complete with mule deer and elk wandering through, and made it to town for a 9pm meal. 

Day two was scheduled to be shorter - 57 miles through Yellowstone’s Lamar Valley. After breakfast in Gardiner we entered the park and found ourselves pedaling up switchbacks to Mammoth. Funny how I’ve driven that road multiple times and hadn’t remembered a climb there. What seems like a molehill by car can feel like a mountain by bicycle.

The pedaling through Yellowstone was full of of wildlife - we even saw a grizzly on a carcass in the river! But biking without much of a road shoulder at the height of tourist season, with running and grunting bison nearby, is not entirely relaxing. Nor is hanging out under a bridge during an unpredicted thunderstorm with bison nearby during the height of their rut! As 5pm wore on to 6:30 the thunder and lightening subsided, and even though it was still raining, we decided to start moving again. We needed to reach Cooke City in time to find dinner.

We were both pleased to put on our Sun Dog Pants for this part of the journey, finding them lightweight and exceptionally comfortable for pedaling. Thus far I’d been wearing the Dirt Flirt Tee and Sun Dog shorts, and Karl had been in the Ridge Rascal Tech Tee and Ramble Scramble Shorts. We climbed out of Yellowstone towards Cooke City and found that as the rain let up our Sun Dog pants dried quickly, making them wearable to dinner.

After dinner in Cooke City (which is more of a small town than anything resembling a city) we checked the weather which confirmed what we’d seen earlier in the week - an afternoon storm was predicted to blow in on Beartooth Pass around 1 or 2pm. We’d have to head out early to reach the top of the pass before it hit.

The next morning we skipped coffee, grabbed breakfast sandwiches, and got to work climbing Beartooth Pass, hoping to reach the top of the pass before the storm. 6,500 feet of elevation gain crammed into 36 miles lay between us and our summit. From there we’d have another 26 miles down to Red Lodge, with a 5 mile climb at the end to bring us to the wedding venue. Fog hung low in some of the valleys, making for beautiful views as we climbed, climbed, and climbed some more. I did my best to push myself without completely blowing up my legs. The grade wasn’t horrible, but my body, which already had 134 miles under its belt from the previous 48 hours, was feeling it. Half way up we stopped at the Top of the World store where we were delighted to find a spigot with fresh spring water. We topped off our water bottles, poured in the electrolytes and honey for energy, and again we were on our way. Three quarters of the way up a road surveyor cheered me on and exclaimed “I know you’re racing the storm, but we have all sorts of snacks if you want any!” There was no time for stopping, but his enthusiasm put a much needed punch in my pedaling.

The thing about summits is they aren’t usually the end of your journey, and sometimes there are false ones. Karl and I reached the first summit at 12:35, marked by the sign that declared we had pedaled to 10,947 feet. But we weren’t done yet. Here we had a quick descent followed by another climb to reach a second summit four miles later. The sky was grey, but the storm still held. I put on my gloves and Sun Dog pants, and, after some kind congratulations from some motorists, we finally began our descent into the fog filled misty valley.

Switchback after switchback after switchback lay behind us as we took on what turned out to be an incredibly fun descent. We had put on rain gear by this time and the resistance from our rain jackets, paired with the layout of the switchbacks, meant we surprisingly rarely had to brake. And to think, we’d each brought not one, but two extra sets of brake pads!

Near the end, it was the final miles that almost got me. My right hand, despite wearing gloves, had gone numb - likely a combination of the cold and gripping so hard on our long descent. Unable to feel my fingers I stopped reaching for snacks and taking in calories. When I finally got to Karl, at the base of our last 5 mile climb, I was cooked and the rain had found us. I forced myself to eat snacks, and we pedaled once again uphill, albeit very slowly. Finally, after what felt like an eternity later, we reached the Girl Scout camp our friends were renting out for the weekend. The bride saw us from a window and gave us a big wave, and the groom came around to a door to welcome us under shelter.

From a little seedling of a thought in Vermont, to 202 miles and 16,335 feet of elevation under our belts in 3 days, I can say the effort involved to have a different sort of trip was well worth it - stay curious.