Greater Yellowstone Cycling Loop
When planning my trip to Wyoming, I knew I had to get out and see Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Cliche, yes, but for a reason. These are must-visits when up in the Cowboy State. Still, I didn’t want to just drive through, checking off the various sites in each park, and be done with them in a day or two. I wanted a more immersive experience. So what’s the best way to do that, you ask? By wheel, of course - two wheels, to be specific. Yes, a bike tour seemed the perfect way to get my National Park fix in. Beating traffic, slowing down, camping each night, what could be better?
I researched possible routes for the trip and came across a proposed cycling route deemed “The Greater Yellowstone Cycling Loop.” Apparently, this route hasn’t been fully finished yet. Still, reading through the proposal details, it wasn’t too difficult to piece together an actual route that generally followed what was planned. I took an afternoon to study the maps and figure out the best route for me. I came up with about a 275-mile loop, starting in Jackson, WY, that would go through both parks, stop by some scenic destinations in Idaho, and finish up with a massive climb over Teton Pass to get me back to Jackson.
The ride was a blast - everything I could have asked for. What follows is a report of the ride, highlighting scenes, sights, the riding itself, and my experience as a whole.
Day 1: The Tetons
I ended up leaving my car and thus beginning the ride just East of Jackson, in Wilson, WY. Unfortunately, there were absolutely zero good long-term parking options in Jackson. The city seemed to be pretty strict about vehicles in general. Figures, given just how many vanlifers I seemed to see on every street there. Wilson, however, offered a massive parking lot, typically used for ski shuttles in the winter, but empty for the most part in mid-July. So I left my car there, feeling confident it would be safe for a few days, packed up my bike, and set off.
It was about a 14-mile ride to actually get into the main part of Grand Teton National Park, but I’m glad that I took this route instead of the one through Jackson. The park entrance I went through was little-used, and I quickly found out why: it leads to a 9-mile, unmaintained park road that connected up with the main route through the park. It was a lovely way to introduce me to the park; light traffic, beautiful forest to wind through, and plenty of gravel for my Surly Bridge Club to eat up. As I made my way out of the forest, the Tetons blew me away, towering high above the valley.
That first day was just spectacular riding. The road cycling in the park felt very safe and even had a paved bike path for the first few miles to Jenny Lake. I took a brief break there to check out the lake but rode on, hoping to find the best swim spot for the day. I only had about 60-miles to do that day to get out of the park, so I could take my time. I would have liked to camp in the park, but for whatever reason, Grand Teton was not allowing walk/ride up hiker/biker sites this year due to COVID-19. They were reservation only. It made no sense to me as Yellowstone was still allowing the traditional non-reservation hiker/bikers to camp; the reason for the difference in the Tetons was beyond me.
Still, 60-miles to get out of the park and camp in the National Forest between the two wouldn’t be a problem. I enjoyed the beautiful, slowly changing views of the Tetons all day. This is why I wanted to travel by bike. Going 45 miles per hour in a car, the mountains are gone in a flash. Going 10 miles-per-hour on a bike, you appreciate every slight change of light, angle, and view of them.
I made it to Colter Bay around lunchtime. After some difficulty searching around the massive parking/visitor area for the right spot, I finally found what I was looking for: a great swim beach. I enjoyed about a two-hour break to eat, then swim, then sun-bathe, then swim again. I was surprised by how few people were there. But then again, I began this trip on a Monday for a reason!
The last few miles of the day had the biggest climb of the day to make it out of the park and then all the way back downhill to cross the Snake River. I wasn’t exactly sure where I’d camp in the forest, but as soon as I crossed the river, I passed a big parking area with four camper vans in it. Bingo. I rode in and went up to a man sitting in a chair by his van reading a book. I asked if camping was OK there, and he said they had camped there two nights already. I walked my bike out into the woods beyond the lot and set up a great little stealth site in a grove of pine trees. I did so rather hurriedly, anticipating an afternoon storm, but it held off for another hour or so. It gave me plenty of time to wash up in the river and enjoy the scenery before taking shelter in my tent for the evening.
Day 2: Yellowstone
It was cool and overcast as I packed my bike up early in the morning. The storm from the previous evening, while no longer actively raining, was still clearly hanging around. I was a little nervous about the legendary crowds in Yellowstone. Still, it was early morning on a Tuesday, and I was on my bike, so I set off with not too much anxiety.
I paused for a quick photo of my bike with the park entrance sign before riding right by the already forming line of cars and into the park. The South entrance into Yellowstone is huge. I suppose it is in every direction, actually, seeing as just how massive that park is. The majority of my morning was a long, steep, and honestly not-too-scenic climb up to elevation. I didn’t mind. The cloudiness kept me cool enough on my most significant uphill of the day, and there were a few solid views down to the Lewis River.
The traffic got heavy pretty quickly, but nearly every vehicle was very good about slowing to pass me and giving me at least the 3-foot minimum. I think I only had one car pass me where I felt uncomfortable with their speed and distance. I made it to Grant Junction after a few hours. I thought about riding all the way down to really explore that area, but I knew on a bike I had to be strategic with where I’d be taking my time. Obviously, the geysers further North occupied most of my interest, plus I was a bit nervous about making sure I got a hiker/biker spot at the Madison campground that night. I sat down at the service area, got a coffee, then rode on.
The ride started to open up and get really beautiful as I crossed the Continental Divide three separate times. On my climb up to the last crossing, the sky finally broke and started down with a light but solidly wet, misty rain. I got pretty wet, but it felt great, and the sun came out as soon as it passed by. The weather for the rest of the day was lovely.
I got to Old Faithful and the main geyser basin just in time for lunch, and only 15 minutes before it was predicted to go off again. I sat there with an uncomfortable number of other tourists and watched as I ate my lunch. Ecotourism continues to make me feel weirder, even though I was certainly a part of it on this bike tour. After the geyser went off, I took an hour to walk around the rest of the basin, taking in the stunning colors, temperatures and smells of the other various geysers, hot springs, and mud pots. I haven’t seen much geothermal activity up that close before, so it was a really cool experience.
Clockwise from left; geothermal algae, Old Faithful, more algae, Middle Geyser
On the ride down towards Madison, I stopped again at the Biscuit Basin, then at the Middle Geyser Basin, to check out their offerings of geothermal activity. Both were, in my opinion, even more, interesting than the main basin with Old Faithful. The Middle Geyser Basin had about two miles of standstill traffic leading up to it and away from it as I rode off. I couldn’t help but smile, looking at the frustrated parkgoers stuck in their cars as I freely rode with the light, afternoon tailwind. If you’re going to go to a park, it’s probably best to bring your bike.
I ended up being the first biker to show up at Madison that night (silly me for having any nerves about getting a site). Still, four other cyclists on various tours showed up throughout the afternoon. It was fun to meet other cyclists and have some company for the evening as I’d been camping alone for almost two weeks at that point.
I went swimming in the Madison River that evening, and it was really warm nice water. It felt great after such a long day of cycling. Towards the end of my swim, the clouds started rolling in again, and by the time I made the ten-minute walk back to my tent, they had opened up. A tremendous thunderstorm poured down for about an hour. Luckily there was a tarped sitting area in the hiker/biker site. I sat with a few other cyclists, ate dinner, and read my book before the rain stopped, and I safely retired to my tent.
Day 3: Into Idaho
It was only 14 miles from Madison campground down the river, out of the park, and into West Yellowstone, MT. Another cool and cloudy morning, it was an easy, quiet ride for me. The lines to get into the park were already backed up all the way down main street at 9 AM. I took a while in town, eating breakfast, resupplying, and making a few phone calls. I ran into two of the cyclists I had camped with the night before on the way out of town, and we chatted for ten minutes before I went on my way.
The route I had researched before the ride now entered its least finished section. The main idea of the route was to take riders through a traditional road tour of the parks, then loop them back down various gravel and mountain bike routes through Idaho. The section between West Yellowstone, MT, and Ashton, ID, was the least certain of the whole route. I elected to stay on the road here, following the trafficked, two-lane highway up Targhee Pass and down into Idaho. It wasn’t a tremendously fun section, made no better by a very stiff headwind as soon as I came over the pass.
I got off the highway and onto the gravel as soon as possible, excited for this more remote, wilderness part of the ride. I rode on an ATV double-track for a while, and despite it being really soft and washed in parts from ATV traffic, I still really enjoyed this section. It was all flat riding as I rode down towards and into the Teton Valley.
I made it back to a more main road, the Mesa Falls Scenic Byway, in the afternoon. I wanted to make sure I saw Mesa Falls on this trip, as a neighbor back home had told me not to miss it. It was basically directly on the route, so I made sure to stop. It was pretty nice, but I found myself surprisingly exhausted by the gravel riding all afternoon. I hung out for a bit but rather hurriedly packed up again and rode on, searching for the first good camp spot I found.
I was back in the National Forest now, so free-camping was plentiful. After a few more miles on the Byway, I found a great spot on a little service road off to the side, looking down an open, clear cut in the forest from a powerline. At that point, I was only 70 miles from Jackson, and even with the massive climb up Teton Pass at the end of it, I decided the next day I’d push back to my car.
Day 4: Teton Pass
I came down out of the forest and out into the very flat farmland of the Teton Valley. There were the Tetons to West; I recalled riding right by them on the other side a few days earlier; my loop around was almost complete. They looked fantastic underneath the morning clouds; there may have even been a rainstorm hovering over them.
I rode pretty aggressively all morning, knowing how much the afternoon would slow me. However, I took about an hour-long lunch break in Driggs, ID, to stretch and relax and prepare myself mentally and physically for the climb. The headwind had picked up just before lunch and got a bit heavier as I rode out of Driggs and the highway turned up towards Teton Pass.
The road signs didn’t make me feel any better about the climb ahead of me. There must have been a sign every half-mile reminding trucks of the strict weight limit for the pass and that the final three miles would be at a 10 percent grade. I knew I had my work cut out for me. Just before the gradual upslope turned more severe, I pulled off to the side of the highway and bushwhacked down 50 feet to Moose Creek. I was feeling sweaty and gross and wanted to wash up. I was glad for it, feeling refreshed and ready for the push.
It was hard. There’s no other way to put it. I was only on a ten-speed gravel bike, loaded down steel; not the sort of ride you want to be taking up 10 percent grades. However, pride kicked in as I felt beyond tired on the last mile, and I refused to stop pedaling. It probably took me two hours to do the 5ish mile climb, and I was spent by the end. But the view back down into Jackson Hole from the top was worth the pain and rain that came down for over half the time I was climbing.
The 5-miles back down to the car went by very quickly, of course. The 10 percent grades work both ways, and I was back into Wilson and at my car in no time, thoroughly happy with how the entire ride went. A perfect way to explore an area that had long been on my list.